Brewed Awakenings
by Zivacentric
Summary: AU Zibbs. Ziva does not work at NCIS, but her occupation is perfect for Gibbs. What happens when an instant attraction sparks between them after a chance meeting outside a ... coffee house? Rating bumped up to M with chapter 5.
1. Gibbs to the Rescue

_The new season of NCIS is starting tomorrow and what better way to celebrate than with a new romance featuring Ziva and Gibbs? =) This one is AU in that Ziva does not work at NCIS and has lived in the States since she was ten years old. While she is still very much Ziva, you will find I've given her more familiarity with idioms and contractions since she's lived here much longer and went to school here. Her family structure has also been changed for this fic, just for a little different flavor. This is will be a fairly long multi-chap and the rating will definitely be going up. ^_^_

_The new avatar is in honor of this posting; I think it's perfect. THANKS and hugs to iyimgrace for sharing her talent and for her willingness to play with these for me. You'll see a couple of other variations on this one as the story progresses._

_This fic is dedicated to all my fellow coffee-drinking addicts - er, um, pals. I hesitate to start naming names for fear of leaving someone out, but you know who you are. Feel free to identify yourselves in your review. :D I hope you enjoy this and that you'll let me know if you do._

* * *

><p>Gibbs strode purposefully down the sidewalk holding the cup of coffee he'd just purchased. It was mid-morning and things had been slow enough at work that he'd walked a few blocks to a diner he liked to pick up a large to-go cup of the rich dark brew that sustained him like the air he breathed instead of hitting the java stand near NCIS as he usually did.<p>

He hadn't been to the diner in several weeks and the old Marine cook who owned the place had been glad to see him. The feeling was mutual.

He decided to take a different way back to work, prolonging his outing for a bit. He was a man of action and sitting while doing paperwork made him irritable, even if it was a necessary evil in his line of work. He automatically scanned his surroundings as he walked, not even realizing he was doing it.

Up ahead a woman was on a ladder, hanging some type of sign outside a shop that he hadn't noticed before. Suddenly, he saw the ladder teeter as some young guys jostled each other playfully, not even realizing they had bumped the ladder hard enough to tip it. Gibbs could see the ladder was headed for a fall, as was the woman clinging to it.

He broke into a run as the urge to help kicked in. She was facing his direction and he could see the trepidation on her face. Luckily, he wasn't far away. As he ran, he tossed his new cup of coffee into the nearest trash can to free his hands. He planted his feet and placed both hands on the ladder and managed to steady it. Glancing up, his gaze was arrested by a pair of the most beautiful brown eyes he'd ever seen.

The woman on the ladder had clearly been bracing herself for the fall and now was trying to steady herself and her racing heart. The brilliant blue eyes looking up at her did not help slow her heart rate, but for a completely different reason.

After staring back at her savior for a moment, Ziva mentally shook herself and climbed down the ladder. Gibbs retained his grip on the opposite side while she did.

After her feet were firmly on the ground, she looked up at him with a small smile. "Thank you for saving me from a nasty fall."

His endearing half-smile peeked out. "Glad I was in the right place at the right time."

They gazed at each other for a moment.

Her smile widening a bit, the woman held out her hand. "So am I. My name is Ziva."

"Gibbs. Jethro Gibbs," he answered, shaking her hand and holding it just a moment longer than strictly necessary.

"I see that you even sacrificed your coffee to assist me," she said, nodding her head toward the garbage can where his cup lay on top. "The least I can do is replace it."

For the first time he noticed that they were standing in front of one of those modern coffee shops, the ones that sold coffee disguised under such names as lattes and espresso. The ball cap on her head that covered her dark hair read _Brewed Awakenings_, as did the sign above the door. The vinyl sign that Ziva had been hanging announced that a book discussion group would be starting this coming Friday night.

He shook his head. "Thanks, but that's OK," he replied, managing to avoid blurting out that he just liked his coffee strong and black and he seriously doubted the place had anything for his simple tastes.

Those whiskey-brown eyes twinkled knowingly. "Don't worry; I won't give you anything with whipped cream or a fancy name."

His half-grin pulled up one side of his cheek, his eyes meeting hers. "That obvious, huh?"

She laughed lightly. The sound was as captivating as her attractively accented voice. "I know coffee drinkers as well as I know coffee. Come on."

She grabbed the ladder, refusing his help with it, though graciously thanked him for holding the door. She placed the ladder out of the way and went behind the counter where a young co-worker was replenishing the glass cases with fresh baked goods.

Ziva set about pouring a large to-go cup of coffee for Jethro, then turned to add something to it. He started to protest, but she threw him a disarming smile and wink over her shoulder.

"Trust me," she said as she gave the coffee a quick stir.

Turning back to him she offered him the cup, still smiling. "I think you will like this, but if you really do not, I promise to pour you another cup without adding a little extra of my secret ingredient."

Her smile turned into a smirk as he took the cup almost gingerly and sniffed before he took a drink. Wow. That was quite possibly the best cup of coffee he'd ever tasted. A satisfied smile curved her lips as she read the pleased surprise on his face.

"What's the secret ingredient?" he asked.

"Now, if I told you that, you could simply make it yourself," she teased as she placed a lid on the cup, "and then you would have no reason to come back."

A sizzling look of awareness zinged between them.

"Oh, I can think of at least one reason," he murmured with an appreciative look.

An adorable light blush heated her cheeks even as she murmured back, "Well, that is good to hear."

Just then a noisy crowd entered the shop and headed straight for the counter. Jethro reluctantly felt pressured to move on.

"Thanks for the coffee," he said, saluting her with the cup.

"Thank you for being my hero," Ziva returned. "Perhaps I will see you again soon."

"Count on it," Jethro said and headed back to work.

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, Jethro managed to drop in nearly every day. Ziva always stopped whatever she was doing and waited on him personally, preparing a cup of coffee exactly like she had that first day. They chatted a little, but there was not usually much time for an extended conversation. She did discover that he worked nearby as an agent for the investigative service for the Navy and Marine Corp.<p>

Today was Saturday, however, and Jethro didn't have to work. He found himself thinking about Ziva and decided to head to the coffee shop even though he wasn't at the Navy Yard just down the street. Today he took his cup, grabbed a paper and settled in at a table in the corner, looking up from time to time to find her eyes on him. His little smile had her heart tripping.

The shop was very busy this morning. He knew that was good for business, but it made for little time to talk. After he couldn't prolong his visit any further without looking ridiculous, he headed up to the counter during a lull in customers for a refill to go. He managed to time it so that he could catch Ziva alone behind the counter.

After taking the cup she'd just filled, he leaned against the counter with studied casualness.

"So, does your boss ever give you time off?" he asked.

"Occasionally," Ziva acknowledged coyly. "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe dinner?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"I would like that," she said quietly, her eyes bright with anticipation. She opened her mouth to say more, but was cut off by a young woman who came through the swinging doors behind her, carrying a tray.

"Boss, did you decide yet where you wanted the new desserts to go?" she asked.

Ziva turned her head and answered the young woman, then turned back to Gibbs, mischief in her eyes.

He had the grace to look a little sheepish, even as he admired the fact that she had totally played him.

"When were you planning to tell me you _are_ the boss?" he asked.

She placed her elbows on the counter so she was leaning toward him.

"Probably around the time you stopped assuming I wasn't," she grinned unabashedly, her delight clearly apparent.

His head went back with a laugh, then tilted to the side once in affirmation that he was busted.

"Still interested in having dinner with me?" he asked.

"Oh, it takes more than that to scare me away, Special Agent Gibbs," she answered, her eyes twinkling.

"Good to know," he nodded, enjoying himself immensely with this woman who intrigued him on so many levels.

They made plans for the next night, as Ziva closed the shop early on Sundays and Jethro was off the whole weekend. Neither could remember the last time they were this eager to see someone again.

_TBC..._


	2. First Date

_A/N: This update comes with a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout to my dear friends and fellow Zibbs lovers Sehrezad (today!) and Sarah Withers (next Saturday). The warmest of hugs to both of you! =)_

_To IronIsraeliButterfly: THANKS for the name, chavera sheli. :p_

_To writingjustforfun: Hope this chapter length is a little more to your taste; it is over twice as long as the 1st one! :D_

* * *

><p>The next night, Jethro picked Ziva up from the apartment she shared with her younger sister, Tali, over the shop. She buzzed him in through the security door on the first floor at the rear of the building and stood in the open doorway of the apartment, watching as he jogged lightly up the stairs. She smiled with pleasure as he came even with her, her eyes traveling over him appreciatively. He was wearing dark pants and a dark jacket with an icy blue dress shirt that set off his eyes to perfection, though he was clueless about that. His shirt had been left open at the throat giving her a tantalizing hint of the chest beneath.<p>

Those brilliant blue eyes darkened with admiration as he looked at her. She was quite simply … gorgeous. It was the first time he'd seen her in anything other than her work uniform, which he honestly found very flattering on her. On the job, she dressed in a fitted deep purple polo made of a lightweight, stretchy athletic material, black pants and ball cap and wore the combination unbelievably well.

Tonight she was wearing purple again, but a different shade … lighter. The color probably had a fancier name than purple, but damned if Gibbs knew what it was. The dress had spaghetti straps and the bodice was formed by two triangles that covered her breasts, creating a tantalizing V in the center. The skirt flowed down from there, ending with a flare at mid-thigh. She'd paired it with a wide scarf in an eye-catching shade of green that she wore like a shawl.

This was also the first time he'd seen her hair down and the long, dark curls made his fingers itch to touch them.

"Hello," she said in welcome, waiting for him to come to her.

"Hi," he returned softly, his characteristic half-grin tugging at his lips. He came to a stop in front of her. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she returned, the smile lighting her brown-eyed gaze taking on a decidedly pleased countenance. "You look very handsome yourself."

She ushered him into the apartment so she could grab her purse. As soon as he walked in, his senses were swamped by a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen.

"Smells good in here," he observed appreciatively.

Tali stepped into the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

"That would be Ziva's cooking," she related with a grin. "My study group meets here on Sundays and she always feeds us. Nice to see you, Agent Gibbs."

"You, too, Tali," Gibbs returned with a faint smile. He'd met her a couple of times at the shop and liked what he knew of her so far. "So, how many people come to the group just for the food? And can I join, too?" His blue eyes twinkled humorously.

"Sure," Tali responded easily. "I've got an international terrorism class this semester that's pretty interesting."

Tali was studying International Affairs at Ziva's alma mater, American University, while working for Ziva at the shop.

Ziva sidled up close to Gibbs. "Or, you could keep me company while they study and I could fix you a care package," she proposed with a suggestive look just for him.

That full-blown grin of his that could light up a whole room suddenly made an appearance.

"Looks like I'll pass, Tali," Gibbs said, his eyes only for Ziva. "Better offer just came through."

Tali grinned while Ziva's delighted light laugh skittered up his spine … and elsewhere.

Placing a hand at the small of her back, Jethro escorted Ziva out the door and into his truck. They went to a steak and seafood place he suggested and talked easily over dinner, discovering more about each other. She was impressed by his accurate guess that her accent was Israeli and he learned that she had moved to America with her mother and sister when she was 10 years old. Her father had been a career military man and had been killed while serving in the army in her home country. Her mother had decided to move them to the States where her own sister and family were already living.

She found out that he'd been a Marine before becoming an agent with NCIS and that he now led his own team. She asked about the people that worked with him and he told her a little about each of them: Tony, Kate, Tim, Abby, Ducky.

He hadn't gone to college, but she had. She'd studied business and worked a couple of different places before opening her shop, which had been her long-term goal. She admitted she put in a lot of hours as it was still getting off the ground and she didn't expect anyone to work harder than she did herself. Plus, she acknowledged wryly that it was hard for her to relinquish control, even over smaller details.

He could relate; he was a very similar kind of boss.

Gibbs found her passion for her venture to be appealing, especially the fact that she wanted this to be more than a coffee shop. She wanted it to foster community, to be a place where diverse groups would gather, talk, share ideas, learn from each other, enjoy each other's company. In only four months, that was already happening and he could see the happiness on her face as she talked about it.

They got to sharing what they did outside of work. Ziva used her spare time for hiking, reading and studying krav maga once a week. She learned that, while he loved being outdoors, his spare time was usually spent working with wood in his basement.

"I know this is DC," he commented, "but do many business owners find a need for hand-to-hand combat?" He was referring to her lessons in krav maga.

She allowed a small smile. "Not to my knowledge," she answered. "My uncle and my cousin Maayan teach it and other martial arts to military groups and civilians. Krav maga feels like a link to Israel for me and I like knowing I can protect myself if the need ever arises. Plus, it is a great work-out."

"Well, that's certainly working for you," he drawled, his gaze wandering over her and sending the message that he liked what he saw.

A light blush stained her cheeks even as pleasure brightened her eyes; she nodded once in acknowledgement of his compliment.

He was trying not to think about the fact that he was older than she was, but part of him wanted to know by how much – though he was pretty sure the answer wouldn't change how he felt about her. She seemed to sense what he was thinking, and it wouldn't be last time that happened. In that way she had of tackling something head-on, she volunteered she would be thirty-two in November. He admitted he'd recently turned fifty.

"That concern you?" he asked

"Does it concern you?" she asked with a half-smile tugging at her lips.

He shrugged, telling her more in that one gesture than he could have managed with words.

"No, it does not concern me," she revealed warmly. "And I hope you will not hold my age against me." She winked at him good-naturedly.

Her humor was exactly what he needed to move past this for now and his open smile pulled an answering one from her.

"So, Jethro, why has some other woman not snapped you up before now?" Ziva asked, half-teasing, half-curious as she changed the subject. She popped another bite of salmon into her mouth as she waited for his answer.

A self-deprecating version of his half-smile pulled up his right cheek.

"Did," he answered. "They just kept throwing me back."

Her brief look of confusion morphed into a guess. "You are divorced?"

"Mhm," he confirmed, taking another bite of his steak and chewing slowly. He aimed for a matter-of-fact look, but she wasn't buying it.

Her eyes narrowed and honed in on him. He fought the urge to squirm. Hell, he'd known investigators who could learn a thing or two from her.

"There is something you are not telling me," she declared certainly. She sat there looking at him unwaveringly, silently … expectantly.

You know, there was just never a real graceful way to say this to a woman you were interested in, though you'd think by now he'd be used to it. But with her … he liked that light in her eyes when she looked at him and he didn't want to see that dim.

"Three times," he blurted out.

Her brow wrinkled for a moment, then her eyes grew a little big at his disclosure. "You have been divorced three times?" she questioned in a carefully neutral tone.

He nodded and turned his attention to cutting another bite of steak in an effort to avoid having to say more. He glanced up at her as he stuck the morsel in his mouth, but his eyes did not give away how his nerves were jumping as he waited for her reaction.

"I realize we are just getting to know each other," she began slowly, her brow wrinkled, "but that information does not really fit with my initial impression of you."

He began to relax when she didn't seem freaked out. He shrugged. "Part of it's probably the job; the hours aren't easy on a relationship."

"I know what that is like," she pointed out with the ghost of an understanding smile.

"But part of it's gotta be me," he felt compelled to point out … though he couldn't quite bring himself to elaborate on that just yet.

"Well, perhaps it is a good thing I don't scare off easily, then, hmmm?" she said with a sexy curve to her lips and a direct look into those blue eyes that made her heart rate speed up just by staring into them.

His characteristic smile popped back out and he acknowledged her words with a tilt of his head. He then breathed a little more easily when the dinner conversation moved to lighter topics.

They lingered over dinner, which was a first for him. Eventually, he paid the bill and they walked to his truck. When he took her hand, she gave his a squeeze. He helped her in and got in on his side. As he drove, their easy conversation continued, punctuated by comfortable silences.

About halfway back to her place, he looked over at her as he was stopped at a red light.

Feeling his eyes on her, she turned her head toward him with a faint questioning smile.

"You know," he started, "you're kinda far away over there."

Her delighted grin brought an answering twinkle to his eyes.

"Where would you suggest I sit?" she asked coyly.

He tapped the bench seat beside him with a finger.

"Hmmm … I think I like that idea myself," she admitted. She quickly unfastened her seat belt and slid over next to him. He pulled the center seat belt over hips and clicked it into place. He took her left hand in his right and rested it on his thigh as the light changed and he had to drive.

They relaxed against each other until they were touching shoulder to knee.

At the next light, he raised her hand to his lips and then looked down into her smiling eyes.

"Definitely better over here," she reflected.

"Definitely," he agreed.

As they pulled in to park behind Ziva's building, she noticed the lights in the living room were ablaze.

"It appears my sister's study group is still in full swing," she observed, unable to keep all of the regret out of her voice.

They let themselves into the building and climbed the stairs up to the wide landing in front of the apartment. A particularly loud discussion involving vehement disagreement over some fact or other reached their ears through the door.

"I cannot imagine you want to wade into the middle of that," she said ruefully.

"I don't scare easily either, you know," he said with a soft smile, raising a hand to tuck her hair behind her left ear, just managing to stop himself from burying his hands in the silky weight of it.

"But still," she murmured, stepping tantalizingly closer to him and laying a hand against his chest, flexing her fingers lightly, "I was thinking some privacy might be in order as we say goodnight."

"Oh?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning in more closely to her and bending his head to brush his nose lightly against hers. His hands settled on her hips, enjoying the feel of the soft material of her dress and her toned body against his palms.

"Mhm," she breathed, staring at his mouth. "I spent most of the ride here from the restaurant imagining what it would be like when you kissed me goodnight." The fact that she said "when" and not "if" had him shouting an internal _Oorah._

"That's funny," he reflected. "Spent most of the ride thinking about that myself."

"Well, then, let's see how it goes," she suggested with a sultry smile, tilting her head and stretching up toward him. He didn't need a second invitation.

He gently grasped her chin in one hand and slid the other to the small of her back. Their lips met and clung. The kiss began warm and soft, gently moving, as they gradually learned the feel, the taste of each other. Her hand slid up from his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. Though the embrace was almost chaste by most standards, it was powerful. For those moments, they were each aware of nothing but the connection developing between them.

Slowly they pulled apart, lips clinging for a heartbeat. Gibbs opened his eyes first, wanting to see hers as she opened them. Satisfaction slammed through him as her lids lifted to reveal whiskey-brown eyes shining with desire.

With a gentle smile he cupped her jaw and smoothed his thumb across her cheek.

"Blew my imagination out of the water," he admitted huskily with a hot look. "How about yours?"

She could only nod, needing another minute before she could actually form a sentence that involved more than the word_ More_. He grinned arrogantly and pressed his lips softly to her forehead.

"Had a great time tonight," Jethro told her with a small smile, catching her brown-eyed gaze.

"So did I," she acknowledged.

"Maybe we could do this again?" he asked.

"Dinner or the kissing part?" she asked with a devilish gleam in her eyes.

He chuckled and then answered honestly, "Both."

"I would like that very much," she said softly.

"Dinner or the kissing part?" he teased, bending his head toward her again.

"Most definitely both," she breathed. To his surprise, she pulled her head back a little and looked up at him determinedly. "When?"

Somehow his smile got even bigger. He loved this about her, the way she didn't hold back on letting him know that she was attracted to him and wanted to be with him.

"Given your work schedule and mine, are we looking at next Sunday again?" he asked.

She groaned and dropped her head to his shoulder. "Most likely," she mumbled.

He brought his hand up and finally gave in to his urge to slide his fingers into her dark, curly locks. He cradled the back of her head, holding her to him.

"Sunday it is," he decided. "And I'll drop in this week for coffee."

"If you have the time, perhaps I could even take a short break while you are there," she suggested hopefully, pulling back far enough to look up at him.

"I'd like that," he assured her softly.

Something moved behind her eyes and her lips parted a little as if she were about to say something. Then she closed her mouth and averted her gaze.

"What?" he asked softly.

She gave a little shrug and stared at his chest as her fingers came down to play with the buttons on his shirt, clearly unsure if she should say whatever it was she was thinking. His interest was piqued, as that was uncharacteristic of her.

He bent his head and nuzzled the side of her neck with his nose. "Tell me what's on your mind, Ziva," he ordered tenderly, speaking softly into her ear.

"I…" she paused before blurting out, "Are you seeing anyone else?"

She closed her eyes even though her head dipped so he couldn't see her eyes anyway. _Smooth, Ziva_ she mentally kicked herself derisively.

He somehow managed to keep his tickled grin in check.

"Nope," he answered simply. He tilted her face up to his, the warmth in his eyes soothing the awkwardness she felt about wanting to pin this down after only one date. "You?"

She shook her head no. His characteristic half-smile tugged up his mouth even as pleasure lit his gaze.

"What would you say if I told you that I do not want you to be seeing anyone else but me?" she asked quietly, searching his face.

Now a full-fledged smile curved his lips. "I'd say I don't want to see anyone but you." He couldn't resist brushing a kiss across the beautiful smile that curved her lips at his response.

Looking back down into her big brown eyes, he went on, "And you should know that I am fully prepared to get rid of any competition that tries to get in the way of you seeing only me." His eyes twinkled, but his voice had a serious undertone.

She relaxed against him, her tension fully released at his response to her questions.

"I think the competition is over," she informed him in a whisper. "You won."

Satisfaction flared unmistakably in his eyes. Now cradling her face in both hands, he took her mouth again, this time with more heat. The rest of the world faded away as they kissed long and slow and deep. At last, they pulled apart.

"Goodnight, Ziva," he said softly.

"Goodnight, Jethro," she returned, then she unlocked the door and stepped into the crowded apartment. She barely threw a wave at her sister, intent on getting to her bedroom without much interruption so she could relive those moments in Jethro's arms.

_TBC ..._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Yes, I've taken some liberty with their ages...just one of the many perks of writing fan fic! =)_


	3. Needing Ziva

_A/N: This one's for Gosgirl ... and "her" Gibbs. :o) _

* * *

><p>That next week, Gibbs stopped into <em>Brewed Awakenings<em> nearly every day, though he usually only had enough time to grab his coffee and exchange a few words with his favorite barista. A couple of days they took a fifteen minute break together. During those times, they sat outside on a bench catching up and just generally enjoying each other, managing to sneak in a kiss or three, as well.

One morning he came in a full half hour before he had to be at work and kept her company while she opened the shop, waited on customers and continued her daily baking. The intimate smile and the hand she laid on his shoulder as she surprised him with a breakfast he hadn't ordered made his heart trip.

They went out again Sunday and caught a movie after dinner. She wore another short little dress that made his hormones beg to be released. Ziva had cooked again for Tali's study group and her eyes twinkled as she handed him a care package with muffins and a thermos of soup. This time it was his look that had her pulse jumping.

Her sister was home again afterwards with the study group still going strong, so they contented themselves with a heated make-out session in his truck. They laughed like teenagers when Gibbs bumped his hip on the steering wheel trying to get closer to her. She scooted over and sat up on her knees, then tugged him over to the middle of the seat. When she then promptly straddled him, all his blood rushed south and he was quickly too busy caressing her tongue with his to be laughing at all.

Gibbs' team was on call the next weekend, but she suggested that if Jethro and his agents didn't get called out on a case, maybe they should go to his place after dinner next Sunday. The kiss that earned her said he whole-heartedly agreed.

Unfortunately, the team did indeed catch a case, and it was a difficult one. He didn't share any details at first, but she could hear it in his voice when he called her Saturday to say he didn't think he'd be free to go out the next day. She assured him it was fine and to check in when he could.

She didn't see or hear from him again until he almost walked into her shop mid-morning on Monday. She was cleaning off some tables by the front windows and noticed him. The smile that immediately curved her lips when she laid eyes on him turned to a frown when he stopped with his hand on the door handle, then turned to walk away without entering. His face was stoic, but something about his body language concerned her.

She hurriedly stepped outside and called his name. He wasn't too far away yet and stopped when he heard her voice. It took him a minute to turn around and when he did, his ghost of a smile didn't reach his eyes. He felt distant to her and looked a little worse for wear.

She approached him and, while he didn't walk away, he didn't reach out either. She stood close, though left a little space between them. She wanted to touch him, but wasn't sure he wanted her to, which had her feeling off-balance and more than a little worried.

She observed quietly, "Something is wrong."

He started to shake his head and make a quick exit, kicking himself mentally for coming here in the first place … but he'd wanted – needed – to see her. He didn't understand it. Normally the only things that helped him settle his demons when they began to claw at him were bourbon and the feel of wood beneath his hands in the solitude of his basement.

But that wasn't where he was instinctively drawn this time…

Before he knew it, Ziva had him by the hand and was pulling him into the shop. She called to one of her staff behind the counter to cover for her and kept Jethro moving until they reached her tiny office. She led him inside and closed the door behind them. There wasn't much room, so she pushed gently at his shoulders until he sat in her desk chair. She tossed her ball cap on the desk to get it out of her way.

"Have I done or said something? Because if so, I am sure I did not mean –" She would have continued, worried that the flat look in his eyes had something to do with her, except he laid a finger lightly across her mouth.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his lap with his other hand. Rubbing his finger delicately over her soft lips, he assured her quietly, "It's not you."

"Then what is it?" she asked, relaxing against him, her arms coming up to loosely wrap around his shoulders.

Gibbs stayed silent for a long moment. He then leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes.

She nuzzled her nose against his cheek. "If you talk, I will listen," she murmured, though there was no pressure behind the words.

"Case," he finally answered succinctly, not opening his eyes. He went silent again, but she just waited him out.

"Whole family was murdered in their home. Guy was a Marine; he and his wife had 2 kids, boy and a girl." His voice was getting less detached as he talked; she could sense they were getting to the crux of the matter, but she endured another period of silence before he really got there.

"I had a little girl once," he husked. "She was killed, too, when she was eight, along with my first wife."

The silence in the room that followed his revelations reverberated loudly. Blood whooshed in Ziva's ears and her heart immediately ached for him, but the news was so completely unexpected that she was at a loss for words at first.

Jethro, unaccustomed to sharing – especially about Kelly and Shannon – started to pull back literally and figuratively. "Was a long time ago," he mumbled, lifting his head from the back of the chair. Avoiding her eyes, he made as though to get up from the seat, but Ziva was having none of that.

She refused to let him shift her weight off him and cupped his face in her hands as she turned him back to her and looked into his eyes. The banked caring in hers cracked the walls that had gone up in his.

"But it left a hole in your heart that gets ripped open again in a case like this," she said gently, perceptively.

He laid his forehead against her chin in silent agreement.

She could all but feel the edgy darkness roiling in him, clawing at his insides. She could also sense him trying to withdraw, trying to cage those emotions all on his own … trying to protect them both, no doubt.

Well, he wasn't alone and a fierce need to comfort and protect him surged through her.

Physically all she could do was slide her arms up so she could cradle his head into her neck, wrapping him in close so he could feel her there with him. In her mind's eye, she put herself in between him and the shadows that were pulling at him. She murmured words that he guessed were in Hebrew; they spoke to him, though he had no idea what she was saying.

And he felt her. Felt her pressed against his body … felt her soothing presence inside his head. At the outskirts of his consciousness, he wondered how that could possibly be, but he didn't spare it much thought. All he knew for sure was that he'd been feeling completely alone as he always did in this place … and now he didn't. And with that, the darkness began receding.

She brushed a kiss across his brow.

"I am sorry for your pain," she whispered. "I wish I could take it from you."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. As he did, the tension that had gripped him from the moment he'd walked into that crime scene on Saturday gradually loosened its hold. His arms snaked around her waist and held on tightly.

_You are_ he thought. With an inward jolt, he realized the truth of those words. He finally relaxed into her, breathing in her smell, her presence.

They sat just like that without speaking for a few long, precious minutes.

"Don't talk about it much," he revealed quietly with his head still buried against her. "Maybe you think I should have told you that first night at dinner when we were talking about things."

Her gentle smile was nothing but understanding and he could hear it in her voice. "I think you were supposed to tell me exactly like this." Her soft tone held not even a hint of judgment. "And maybe someday you will tell me more."

Quiet followed, though it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Wanted to see you." He looked up into her eyes and admitted, "Needed to see you."

Her eyes lit with pleasure at his admission, silently speaking volumes. She pressed a very soft kiss to his lips, then hugged him in again.

"Who on your team is most helpful to you in times like these?" she asked thoughtfully in a quiet voice.

Her question was met with complete silence.

"Jethro?" she murmured, concerned.

"They don't know," he mumbled, tucking his face more snugly into her neck.

Her stomach dropped at his words.

"Not one of them?" she whispered, her heart aching for him and the burden he had carried with little or no support. And she had a feeling he'd only revealed the tip of this particular iceberg.

He shook his head, risking a look at her.

She laid her forehead gently to his.

"I am honored," she husked.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and laid her cheek on his hair. They held onto each other, lost in their own thoughts, yet completely connected.

After a while, she felt his body sit up a little straighter as though preparing to move and this time she let him. She looked down into his blue eyes with the faintest of smiles, happy to note that, while he still looked tired, that flat, dead look in his eyes had disappeared.

"I should let you get back to work," he said running one hand up and down her back while the other rested on her hip.

She knew he was really saying that he needed to stop talking for now and get back to work himself, but she didn't call him on it.

"I am glad you came," she said softly instead.

"Me, too," he husked, then brought her mouth to his for a kiss that was warm and soft and filled with gratitude.

"Stop by when you can," she invited him when they pulled apart. "If I have not heard from you in a couple of days, may I call to check on you or will that get in your way?"

He couldn't remember the last time someone had called just see how he was doing.

"Don't think you'd ever be in my way," he answered, squeezing her hip where his hand still lay, "but I've been taking care of myself for a long time."

"Yes, but I have a feeling that your idea of that does not meet my standards for how you should be taken care of," she said knowingly.

His characteristic half-smile pulled up the left corner of his mouth. Thirty minutes ago he wouldn't have thought he'd have had a single thing to smile about today.

"You can call me," he told her, then had a thought. "But if I can't pick up right then, don't leave a message – don't know how to listen to those."

She chuckled and gave him a quick hug.

"Duly noted," she acknowledged. "I don't suppose you text, either, hmmm?" Her brown eyes twinkled as she teased him.

He shook his head somewhat ruefully.

"Do you know how to read it if I send you one?" she asked.

He debated long enough internally with his response that she knew the answer even before he confessed, "Maybe."

"Here." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and quickly pulled up his number. She pushed a few keys and hit send. His phone made a chirp from his jacket pocket and he looked down at it almost in surprise.

"That means you received my text," she told him, eyes sparkling with good humor.

He pulled out his phone and opened it. By today's standards, his phone was outdated, but it did everything he wanted it to do – uh, make and receive calls – and he hated the idea of learning new technology. Although, strangely enough, he apparently didn't mind when it was Ziva doing the teaching. She showed him how to select "View Now" and he smiled when he read, "Hi."

When he noticed it was followed by a colon and a right parenthesis, he was confused. He didn't want to let on that he had no idea what it was there for, but she realized it anyway.

"This," she said leaning close and tapping that part of his screen, "is a smiley face."

His characteristic half-smile was more than a little sheepish as she grinned good-naturedly.

She showed him how to get back to his regular screen, expecting him to then slip his phone back into his pocket. He surprised her, though, holding the phone out where he could read it as he looked through his contacts. Finding what he was looking for, he pushed the green button on his phone with his own eyes twinkling up at her. Her phone rang and she looked down to see that the call was from him.

She answered, "Hello?" looking into his eyes.

"Hi back," he smirked teasingly, "but you'll have to settle for me smiling at you in person."

Her heart stumbled.

"If I must," she whispered in a voice full of emotion.

True to form, he hung up without saying goodbye. However, he made up for that by pulling her down into a deep, hungry kiss.

Her phone dropped to the rug from nerveless fingers as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Finally, they pulled apart only to come back together, once, twice more, tugging gently at each other's lips.

"If you need me before I call you, promise you will come by or call me," she requested in a slightly husky tone.

Gibbs, who wasn't used to "needing" anyone despite the fact that wanting to be near her was precisely what had drawn him here today, just smiled as he slid his phone back inside his jacket. However, she wasn't letting him off that easily.

"Promise me, Jethro," she directed again firmly, her hands cupping his face.

"Promise," he acquiesced.

With a last brief kiss, she got up from his lap, picked up her hat and tucked her phone back in her pocket. He stood and took the hand she was holding out. Just before she opened the door, he tugged at her fingers to stop her. "Ziva?"

She turned back with a slight curve to her lips, eyebrows raised in question.

"Thanks," he said with feeling.

"For?" she asked, her head cocked to one side contemplating him.

He honestly couldn't voice all the things running through his mind at breakneck speed. _For caring. For holding on. For not pitying me. For not making me talk more. For settling my memories so I can do my job._

_For being you._

"Just … thanks," he repeated, his eyes saying more. And somehow, she got the message.

Her lips curved into a full-blown smile and with a wink she responded, "Anytime."

Hand in hand, they walked back to the front of the shop where Ziva slipped behind the counter once more. She quickly prepared him a large to-go cup of coffee and handed it to him.

"Take care of yourself, Agent Gibbs," she admonished warmly as he turned away.

"Thought that was your job," he tossed back with a look over his shoulder, the smirk reaching his eyes this time.

Her laughing smile and sparkling big brown eyes were his last visual before he walked out the door with a much lighter heart than when he'd entered through it earlier. That mental picture would go a long way toward sustaining him through the next few difficult days.

_TBC..._

* * *

><p><em><span>AN cont'd: I am quite simply bowled over by - and thrilled with! - the enthusiastic support for this story...THANK YOU. =) All the reviews, alerts and favorites are deeply appreciated it. I would really love to hear your thoughts on this chapter in a review or PM. It touched me and I hope it touched you, as well. Thanks again for reading!_


	4. Finding Balance

_A/N: For Bamacrush ... and the jeans. ^_^_

* * *

><p>True to her word, Ziva called him every couple of days to check on him, but kept the calls brief, not wanting to interrupt his work too much. She also sent two texts just to say she was thinking of him right at that moment. The smiley faces she included made him chuckle inwardly. He was pretty sure the second one was winking at him, but he wouldn't have admitted that out loud even if someone held a gun to his head.<p>

He thought about her, too - in fact, he thought about her a lot. And his lips always curved when he did, even if just faintly.

The team noticed the smiles and his much improved disposition after he'd disappeared for a while this past Monday. They started speculating among themselves, but no one had the nerve just yet to ask him if there was a person behind the changes they saw in him. Tony was willing to bet money that there was until Kate put the kibosh on that.

Ziva kept the conversations light when she called, which helped ease the discomfiture that cropped up now and then for Gibbs as a result of having opened up to her about Shannon and Kelly. He wasn't sorry he had … not exactly. When he thought about it, though, he just wasn't sure what to expect the next time he actually saw her.

Surely she wouldn't expect him to talk like that all the time … would she?

Sigh. He really didn't think so, but it wouldn't be the first time that had happened; an ex-wife or two came to mind.

Toward the end of the week, Gibbs finally took a page out of Ziva's book and decided to meet that vague worry head on. Besides, he just plain wanted to see her. Kate, Tony and Tim were out chasing leads and he was stalled until they had more information to go on. It was the perfect opportunity to grab a coffee and say a quick hello.

Nerves competed with anticipation as he opened the door to _Brewed Awakenings_ and he didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved when he didn't see her right away. One of the staff behind the counter noticed him waiting in line, though, and poked her head through the swinging door that led to the kitchen.

"Ziva!" Becky called. "Agent Gibbs is here."

As he stepped up to the counter and paid for his coffee, he offered in mild protest, "If she's busy –"

Just then, Ziva came through the door wiping her hands on her apron.

"I am never too busy for you," she advised him with a smile. She turned to prepare his coffee, but not before she noticed that he hadn't quite met her gaze. She wasn't completely surprised.

"Besides, we're under strict orders to let her know when you're here," Becky confided to Gibbs, smiling mischievously when Ziva blushed. "And I'm way too smart to mess with Ziva."

The women grinned at each other with the ease of two people who worked comfortably together. Despite himself, Gibbs found his characteristic half-smirk tugging at his own lips.

Ziva had his to-go cup of coffee prepared quickly, just the way he liked it. Turning toward him, she tilted her head to the side counter before stepping over there. He followed her silent summons.

She placed his cup on the counter. He reached for it, but she refused to let go. He finally met her eyes as his fingers covered hers around the cup.

"Hi," she said, her eyes full of warmth and a hint of understanding.

"Hey," he returned, his gaze sliding from hers.

_Hmmm_ she thought, her eyes narrowed slightly as she considered him.

Maybe a little action was in order.

Pulling the cup out from under him, she went around the counter and walked backwards down the hall holding his cup out as a lure, a teasing light in her eyes the whole way.

He couldn't help the ghost of a smile that peeked out as he followed her.

Once they were inside her office, she placed his coffee and her hat on her desk and crowded gently into his space until her body rested lightly against his.

"You know," she drawled conversationally, "you usually look at me when you stop by. You wouldn't by any chance be trying to hide from me, would you, Jethro?"

"What makes you say that?" he side-stepped, his hands coming up automatically to rest on her hips.

"I recognize the signs," she answered knowingly. "I have done it myself."

Her commiserating wry smile allowed the tension he'd tried to bury somewhere in the vicinity of his gut start to uncoil.

"But you know what?" she continued in a conspiratorial tone.

"What?" he asked, relaxing a little more.

"I am not going to let you," she informed him in a stage whisper, her eyes twinkling.

His characteristic half-smile appeared on his face. The rest of the unease he'd been carrying melted away.

"Promise?" he asked, running his hands up and down her back.

"Promise," she returned with a faint smile and a nod.

"I might not make it easy on you," he admitted … then felt compelled to add, "probably won't."

"I can handle it," Ziva asserted confidently, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Yeah, he just bet she could.

They exchanged a warm, affectionate smile.

"But you could start making it up to me in advance anyway," she suggested in a flirtatious tone, her eyes on his mouth.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, pulling her hips more firmly against his.

"Let's start with a kiss," she proposed, stretching up toward him. Then she pulled back and challenged him, "But make it a good one."

They were both grinning as their mouths came together. The kiss started out slowly, almost gently, then deepened as she welcomed his tongue past her lips.

"Mmmm…" she purred with pleasure when he finally lifted his head. She rested her forehead against his chin. "I love kissing you."

"That's mutual," he nearly growled. "Let's do it again."

He captured her lips once more before she could even form a response. This time he took the kiss deep and hot right from the start, tangling his tongue with hers sensuously.

When he let her up for air, she clung to him, her brow tucked into his neck.

"OK, this time you're going to have to hold me up for a minute," she informed him breathlessly, her eyes still closed.

He grinned inwardly, but said, "Who's gonna hold me up?"

"It appears you're just going to have to be strong enough for both of us," she advised him playfully.

The words were meant in jest, but they hit him at a deeper level. Cupping her cheek tenderly in one of his large hands, he tipped her face out where he could see it.

With appreciation behind his eyes, he asked quietly, "Like you were the other day?"

Ziva's eyes reflected her surprise, then pleasure and gratitude swirled in their brown depths. Warmth spread inside her that he would acknowledge needing her the other day, even obliquely. She'd figured he would need to avoid that for a while. A lovely smile curved her lips.

She nodded slowly.

"We could take turns," she proposed softly.

"Not too good at that either," he admitted. Then he clarified, "The not strong part."

"Honestly? Neither am I," Ziva confessed. "But perhaps we can muddle through together."

And with that, he found his balance again and stopped worrying about how it would be with her now. He was sure the more complicated feelings would revisit, but for now, the two of them were okay – which made him much better than okay.

"You're good for me, Ziva," he told her in a husky voice, thumb caressing her cheek.

"You are good for me, too," she returned with a small smile.

He looked at her skeptically.

"You are," she asserted. "When I am with you, I remember that there is more to life than work and that it is fun to be with someone who makes you feel happy just to see them – and that's good."

After another brief kiss to his mouth, she turned and handed him his coffee. "Although right now it would probably be good for both of us to get back to work," she observed with a rueful smile. "You are in the middle of a case and my kitchen is very busy this afternoon."

She laced her fingers through his as she led the way down the hall toward the dining area.

"Did you have lunch today?" she asked, assessing him with a concerned but sharp gaze.

He held up his cup to her in wordless answer, a banked twinkle in his blue gaze.

Gibbs bit back a grin as Ziva rolled her expressive brown eyes and muttered something in Hebrew. Tugging his hand to bring him along, she abruptly reversed their direction.

They entered the kitchen from the back and she left him standing in the doorway while she quickly and efficiently fixed him a carry-out package consisting of her homemade vegetable soup, the second half of a turkey sandwich she'd made for herself and an apple. As an afterthought, she added one of her thick, moist iced brownies.

As she handed him the bag, she directed, "Eat."

Then she promised, "I will talk to you soon."

He nodded, then bent to place a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks for lunch," he said, then headed out with an easy smile on his face. It did not escape him that for the second time this week she'd played a big part in turning his frame of mind around for the better.

* * *

><p>The team finally had the case wrapped up and the murderer behind bars by Saturday evening. The arrest had been intense and fraught with emotion; only Gibbs' calm, perceptive words had allowed the team to overtake the man before he turned his gun on himself. It was a sad story all around. The perpetrator's brother had been killed in action while serving under this Marine in Afghanistan. The brothers were very close and had no other family. In his pain and grief, it had suddenly made sense to him that if he didn't have any family left, neither should the commanding officer. Tragedy visited upon tragedy.<p>

Gibbs sent everyone home with orders to get some rest. He made one stop on the way to his own bed.

The shop was hopping again. He spotted Ziva talking to a group of college kids – all guys, he noticed a bit dourly – that were seated in a corner discussion area. As though feeling his eyes on her, she looked over. The pleased smile that immediately spread across her features pulled a similar one from him. Without delay, she excused herself from the group and made her way over to him. He noticed more than one gaze following her, but felt a kick of satisfaction in his gut to note that she only had eyes for him.

"Hi," she greeted him softly, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze.

"Hi back," he responded, returning the greeting and the squeeze.

"You look tired, but … lighter," she told him, cocking her head and gazing into his handsome face consideringly. "You closed your case?"

He nodded, part of him amazed again at how well she could read him given that they'd only known each other a few weeks. Granted, they had seen each other at least for a short time nearly every day, but still ...

She started leading him toward her office.

"I would pour you coffee, but you look like you need sleep more than you need caffeine," she told him.

He just smirked. "I could still sleep," he informed her with a touch of arrogance in his tone. After all, with as much coffee as he drank, his tolerance for caffeine was through the roof.

By this time, they had reached her office and she closed the door behind them. Gibbs tugged off the cap covering her head to better see her face. She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him, pushing aside his jacket to rub her cheek against his chest. His arms encircled her shoulders, holding her to him.

Laying his cheek against her hair, he said, "Don't mean to keep you from your work too long." _Just…wanted to see you _he left unsaid, though the contented sigh that escaped him as he relaxed into her sent the message loud and clear.

She tilted her head up to give him a smile.

"You can interrupt me anytime," she said simply.

He moved a hand up to cup her jaw and brought their lips together for a kiss that started soft and slow before becoming more heated.

Gradually they pulled apart, but stayed wrapped in each other's arms.

Ziva looked up at him. "Could we have dinner at my place tomorrow? I was thinking I could cook for you instead of going out."

His eyes lit with pleasure. "Sounds great. Want me to bring anything?"

She shook her head. "Just yourself." Then she got a sexy twinkle in her eye. "But you _could _wear those jeans you were wearing the day you first asked me out."

His head went back in an easy chuckle. "Liked those, did you?"

"Oh, yes," she murmured. "Well, to be technically correct, I liked what was in them. They showed off your assets very nicely." She ran a hand along the outside of his thigh, ending with a squeeze to his hip that was tantalizingly close to his ass.

He swallowed. Hard. "Jeans it is," he managed, struggling to get a picture of her touching him without jeans or anything else between them out of his head.

"And I am kicking my sister out of the apartment for a while," she continued, giving him a hot look that spoke volumes.

Now more than just his swallowing was getting hard.

"Sounding better and better all the time," he breathed, bending down to take her mouth again in a kiss that had both their heart rates speeding up.

Gradually, he brought the level of heat down, knowing she needed to get back to work.

"I should go," he murmured, sliding his lips to her jaw, down her throat.

"Mmmm…" was her only response, though whether it was to his words or the movements of his mouth was anybody's guess. She certainly made no move to pull away from him or even to open her eyes.

"You working late tonight?" he asked against her skin. She nodded.

"One of my staff asked for the evening off and I figured I might as well work since you were working." Her lips curved down with disappointment as she pulled back to look up at him. "But now you are not."

"It's okay," he soothed her, looking down into her face as he cradled it in his hands. "Doubt I'd be much company until I get some sleep."

Just then a knock came on the office door. Ziva gave a little sigh and then called out, "Yes?"

"Sorry, Ziva, but the delivery you were expecting earlier is here now and I don't think the order is right," said a male voice through the door.

"Be right there," Ziva promised. She looked at Jethro apologetically. "Duty calls."

He gave her a soft smile. "What time tomorrow?"

"Let's make it 6," she suggested.

He nodded then stepped back so she could open the door. They walked out with his arm draped over her shoulders and hers wrapped around his waist.

"Swear you will sleep as long as you can," she fussed over him.

He smirked at her. "Think I'll need my energy for dinner tomorrow?"

"Not for dinner," she came back saucily, "but maybe for dessert." She threw him a flirtatious wink.

He threw back his head with a laugh. God, he enjoyed her.

By this time they had reached the counter. With a last one-armed hug and an assurance that he'd see her tomorrow, he headed out the door grinning like the happy man he was.

* * *

><p><em><span>AN: The next chapter will take the rating up to M, so be on the lookout for the update, if you're interested. =) As always, THANKS for reading and I'd love to hear what you think!_


	5. Dessert

About ten minutes before six the next evening, Gibbs pressed the buzzer on the security door at the back of Ziva's building. The anticipation of seeing her had finally gotten the best of him and he'd headed on over. If he hadn't stopped to pick up some flowers for her, he'd have been even earlier. He shook his head at himself. They'd only known each other a month and he already had it bad.

Ziva released the downstairs lock and waited in her open apartment door with a welcoming smile. She was wearing jeans and a soft black V-necked top with fitted cap sleeves. The material was rayon with a touch of spandex, so it clung to her shape nicely and curved over her hips. The upper part of the bodice was made to look as though the two sides covering her chest were knotted in the middle and then crossed beneath her breasts, showing her figure off to understated perfection. Her hair was down, just the way he liked it best. When she saw the bouquet of flowers, her smile widened and pleasure lit her eyes.

"Hi. Come in," she invited, stepping back to let him through the door.

"I'm a little early," he began as he entered, a note of apology in his voice.

She closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

"I am glad you are early," she interrupted softly. "I have been thinking about you all day." The air between them practically crackled with their mutual attraction as his gaze met hers.

Her eyes then took on a decided twinkle. "I know I told you not to bring anything, but I hope those are for me," she grinned impishly, nodding toward the flowers.

"They are," he drawled, "unless I need them to bribe Tali into leaving for a while." His blue eyes twinkled merrily.

She laughed and stretched up on tip-toe to give him a brief welcoming kiss, then started to step back.

"Uh-uh," he shook his head and laid the bouquet down for a moment on the coffee table in front of her couch. "Come back here."

He pulled her into a long, deep, hungry kiss that had them both breathing faster before it was over.

Slowly her eyes blinked open and she looked at him with an expression that was more than a little dazed.

"I just put an apple pie in the oven for dessert," she murmured almost inanely, "but maybe I will just have you instead."

He smirked contentedly.

"Sounds like I'm a winner either way," he responded with a tilt of his head and a roguish shrug of his shoulders. "Really like apple pie and really, _really_ like you."

She would swear her heart turned over in her chest.

"If you play your cards right, perhaps you will have both," she suggested playfully, attempting to curb her reaction to him. He reached back and handed her the flowers with a hopeful expression. Her lips curved with delight. "I must admit you are off to a very, very good start – plus you wore the jeans." She threw him one of those quick winks of hers that never failed to kick his heart rate up.

With a silly-assed grin on his face, he followed her to the kitchen. First, she found a vase for the colorful mix of beautiful flowers and placed the arrangement on the low table in the living room. He hung his navy sport jacket on the back of a kitchen chair revealing the white button-down shirt he wore underneath. He rolled his sleeves up his forearms. It wasn't his usual choice of a polo or casual t-shirt, but he'd opted for something different tonight. The heated appreciation in her eyes as she walked back into the kitchen said she approved.

"Tali here?" he asked, masking his hope that she wasn't going to say "yes."

Ziva shook her head.

"Her study group is taking a night off as they had a big test on Friday, so she is out with her boyfriend," Ziva advised him. Then she added dryly, "Well, he is her boyfriend again this week."

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"They have this on-again/off-again relationship that I frankly find a little wearing, but…" she shrugged. "Tali is not a child and though I think she would perhaps be better off moving on, it is her decision to make."

Ziva took a last look at dinner and decided it was ready. She handed him the wine and a corkscrew and suggested he could pour while she placed the food on the table.

Dinner conversation flowed easily, sprinkled with a flirtatious sizzle that had butterflies dancing in Ziva's stomach. They lingered a bit until the timer on the stove announced that the pie should be done. She put on thick mitts and bent over to remove the perfectly browned, delicious-smelling dessert from the oven.

"I can feel you watching me," she said pointedly as she worked.

"Well, yeah," he responded as though his reasons for doing so were obvious. "View's too good to pass up."

Ziva chuckled as she placed the pie dish on the cooling rack she had waiting for that purpose. She closed the oven door and pulled the pot holders from her hands, laying them on the counter. Walking over to him, she looped her arms around his neck and dropped a quick kiss to his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Thanks for dinner," he husked. "It was terrific."

"You are welcome," she said with a small smile, one hand smoothing up the back of his neck to slide into his hair. "I am glad you enjoyed it. I like to cook, but it's not usually worth doing much around here when it's just me. Tali and I do not even sit down together very often due to our schedules. That is one reason I cook when her friends come over to study."

"Plus, it lets you take care of them a little," he guessed perceptively. She shrugged lightly and looked down, seemingly a little embarrassed at having been caught out in that. It was another thing he liked about her, that side of her that couldn't help but nurture, protect, though she did it completely without fanfare.

"The pie still needs to cool for a while," she deflected, changing the subject. "Any suggestions on how we should pass the time while we wait?' Her expressive brown eyes snapped with a mix of humor and desire.

"One or two," he murmured, tugging her into a kiss.

He captured her lower lip with his teeth, pulling gently. She made a sound of pleasure to which he could quickly become addicted. He couldn't resist deepening the kiss and judging from her response, she was very happy to go along.

Pulling back just a little to catch her breath, Ziva gave him a come-hither smile and held out her hand, which he took. She pulled him up and led him the short distance to the living room. Sitting on the couch with one leg folded underneath her, she tugged him down to sit beside her.

"Now, where were we?" she murmured, sliding one hand over his chest and up to cup the back of his neck. He decided he could best answer that with action instead of words.

He kissed her again, her lips opening warm and welcoming under his as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The kiss went on for endless delicious minutes. Coming up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Missed you lately," he said softly.

"You just saw me yesterday," she pointed out with a knowing smile, though her heart thumped at his words.

"Feels longer," he admitted.

It was her turn to answer him without words, bringing her smiling lips to brush once, twice against his before settling in to taste him deeply.

Gradually they pressed closer and closer together, wanting more and more contact. Their mouths began to wander, finding galloping pulse points and soft earlobes and silky or slightly salty skin. Their hands were not idle either, softly exploring, learning more of each other and finding some of those places that made them each gasp or moan with pleasure. There was no hurry as yet … the thrill of discovery was too enjoyable to rush, the hungry anticipation building oh-so-nicely.

Ziva rested her leg on Jethro's thigh, seeking to get even closer. He wanted more of her against him, too, and he slowly laid back, his mouth never leaving hers. He continued to hold onto her so that she moved with him and kept going until he was stretched out on his back and she was lying on top of him, her body molded to his.

"Much better," she congratulated him in a whisper against his lips. She changed tactics, kissing her way down his throat then up toward his ear. His breath caught as she bit down gently on his ear lobe before sucking on it.

She nibbled her way across his jaw back to his mouth. She took his lips again, dipping her tongue inside to tangle with his. She couldn't stop her body from rubbing against his, which he found incredibly erotic.

When she finally lifted her head, she began playing with the buttons on his shirt. "I want to feel more of you," she whispered, her brown-eyed gaze drowning in his blue one.

"You can feel anything you want," he nearly growled, running his hands down her back to squeeze her hips. Heat pooled at her center at his words and she pressed herself against his growing erection, causing them both to hum with pleasure.

She slowly undid the top three buttons on his shirt, looking into his eyes the whole time. Somehow their eye contact ramped up the intensity even more.

Her fingers slipped inside his shirt to touch his bare chest. "Mmmm…" she breathed, loving the feel of his skin and the curly hair she discovered there. His heart stopped, then continued at double speed as her head dipped toward the opening she'd made, her eyes roaming hungrily, her lips brushing lightly before her tongue darted out to taste him. He closed his eyes, indulging in the flood of desire that rose within him even as he made a grab for his self-control.

She began nuzzling him with her nose and pressing lingering kisses onto his chest, following the V she'd created in his shirt. She was moving frustratingly yet fantastically slowly, driving him crazy. He decided that since she had unbuttoned his shirt, he had tacit permission to slip under the hem of hers. As he trailed his fingertips lightly enough to tease over the small of her back, she made that noise again - that cross between a gasp and a whimper and mew – that went straight to his groin.

"Love that sound," he breathed, rubbing his cheek against her hair.

"What sound?" she mumbled distractedly, her attention focused on his incredibly handsome chest.

He dipped his hands down and squeezed her perfect ass, pushing her swelling clit into his hardness. Even with their jeans between them, it worked.

"That sound," he smirked. She raised her head to look into his face. Her eyes were clouded with desire, but his words finally penetrated.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned that I am not typically very … quiet during times like these," she smiled ruefully, but the heated sparkle was still snapping in her eyes.

"Good," he murmured, gently scraping his teeth along her throat. "Want to hear you … feel you … taste you …"

She gasped out that sound again as heat pooled to her center. Her panties were getting so wet, it was a wonder the proof of her desire hadn't soaked through her jeans.

He rested back against the pillow behind his head, gazing into her gorgeous face. While one hand continued to rest on her bottom, he brought the other up to cup her jaw, his thumb smoothing gently back and forth over her soft cheek.

"You're beautiful," he husked, his brilliant blue eyes tracing her lovely features.

"So are you," she whispered, one fingertip slowly sliding back and forth across one of his cheekbones.

He snorted.

"Marines aren't beautiful," he disagreed with mock exaggeration.

She grinned good-naturedly. "No? What are they?"

He pretended to think, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. "Ruggedly handsome," he settled on, his completely serious tone belied by the banked twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her again. "You could go with that."

She loved it when his lighthearted side came out to play and her delighted laugh made him chuckle.

"Well, I must admit, that fits you as well," she admitted, bumping her nose against his. "But I still say you are beautiful." She snuggled into him smiling into his neck.

"Well, don't tell anyone," he entreated. "I have a reputation to protect."

"Oh, you do, hmmm? The big, tough federal agent?" she guessed, slightly amused.

"More like the 'second b in Gibbs is for bastard' kind of thing," he enlightened her.

Her brow furrowed, even as she huffed out a laugh in disbelief. She shook her head, raising her head to look into his face once more. "I do not see that."

"If you stick around long enough, you will," he predicted knowingly. Then something moved behind his eyes. "But hope you do – stick around, that is."

His tone was perfectly neutral to most ears, but not to Ziva's. Somehow they'd had this connection right from the start and she could see – and hear – beneath the surface he presented. The vulnerability that was all but hidden tugged at her.

"I am not going anywhere," she reassured him, her voice husky with feeling. "Why do you think I am plying you with coffee, dinner and apple pie? I am trying to give you reasons to keep me around."

His eyes darkened. "The only reason I need is lying on top of me right now," he informed her in a voice that had dropped an octave.

_How can your heart actually melt and beat faster at the same time?_ Ziva wondered on the outskirts of her mind.

A myriad of emotions rolled through her, including the passion that darkened her eyes to nearly black. Looking at his lips, her tongue darted out to wet her own. His eyes honed in on her mouth and a low noise escaped his throat.

She brought her lips to his, swooping down for a nip, a brush, a tug … until her tongue flicked along his lower lip and the floodgates of desire opened. Cradling the back of her head in one hand, he took control of the kiss, deepening it. The reins of his control began to slip. He felt like he could devour her and he pulled her closer and closer. The hand that had been caressing her bottom slid up to cup her breast through her shirt. She moaned and gave as good she got, losing herself in this powerful desire that gripped them.

Their breath came faster, but still they didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop. Her hand slid back under his shirt, tracing the contours of his muscled chest, nails scraping lightly across his nipple. His hips bucked against her at the contact, moaning in his throat. It was a heady feeling for her knowing that she could drive this handsome, incredible man crazy with passion for her.

His hand slid back under her shirt, stoking up and down her back. One part of his brain realized he was getting rapidly close to an edge he might not be able to pull back from, but he couldn't bring himself to pay much attention to it. He wanted to ride out the sensations that this intriguing, gorgeous woman aroused in him.

Unconsciously his fingers lingered at the bra strap that fastened across her back as they continued to kiss as though they'd never stop. He stroked his fingertips over the thin satin band…slid under it…tugged at it.

Their mouths separated to gasp in some much-needed air, but her lips continued to brush against his skin on her way up to his ear.

"Yes," she breathed, nuzzling into him.

"Yes?" he asked, wanting to make sure he was reading her correctly.

A red flag of caution was trying desperately to get Ziva's attention, but she consigned it to hell. She hadn't been this carried away by pure, unadulterated passion in years and she wanted nothing more than to revel in it with this man.

"You can unfasten it," she murmured, placing kisses on and behind his ear, "if you want to."

"Want to," he practically growled. He could feel her siren's smile against his neck.

He had her bra unfastened in a heartbeat and ran his hands up and down her back from the base of her neck to the curve of her bottom, savoring the expanse of her flawless olive skin that felt like pure spun silk.

Her body was completely molded to his as she moved her lips back down to his chest. Her tongue came out to taste him in earnest and their need for each other climbed higher and higher.

His hands smoothed up her sides and he groaned when his fingers encountered the softness of her breasts. She made that sexy sound again and running on instinct she straightened her arms against the couch on either side of his neck to give him better access. Her breath caught as he took her up on her silent invitation; surely to God the feel of his hands against her naked breasts was the most amazing sensation she'd ever experienced.

Her back arched as her head fell back, thrusting her lovely mounds completely into his touch. This position pushed her center even more fully against his hard shaft, the denim layers between them adding to the pressure. Her hips moved, grinding against him, unconsciously searching to relieve the pressure that was building.

He looked up into her face to find it etched in ecstasy, her eyes closed to better luxuriate in her body's response to him. His heart was pounding from the almost primal need that was tugging at him to make her his.

"Ziva," he whispered thickly.

She unhurriedly opened her eyes and let her head fall forward. Her brown orbs were hazy and unfocused with desire. Her lips parted in a gasp of delight as his thumbs rubbed her peaked nipples.

"Want to see you," he husked raggedly. He watched her face carefully for her response. She was incapable of a verbal reply at first. He took her silence to mean she was hesitant.

"Too soon?" he murmured, only willing to go as far as she wanted to.

The caution flag that was waving madly again in Ziva's brain finally received some notice. She blinked some clarity into her vision and looked down at him, her gaze unreadable for a moment. "Not if you swear you do not think it is."

He looked at her trying to decode what was behind her words, his hands sliding down a little to hold her ribcage just under her breasts. She was quiet for a moment.

"I want you and I am not trying to send a mixed message…" she said almost hesitantly, lowering her gaze. "It is just…"

After a pause, she took a breath and let it out. Finding his eyes with hers, she continued.

"I normally move a little slower this early in a relationship these days, though Tali thinks I am being horribly old-fashioned about it," she explained. Then she whispered, "But I feel different with you … _everything_ feels different with you."

The part of him that had tensed up waiting for her response relaxed. "Feels different with you, too," he admitted, smoothing his hands lightly over her ribs and gazing unswervingly into her eyes.

Her lips curved, relief evident on her face. She leaned down and stole a soft kiss, then rose up again a little. "I am very glad to hear that."

They shared an intimate smile. The fact that they both had acknowledged this burgeoning connection between them made it more real, more … exciting.

As though drawn together by some unseen force, their heads slowly moved toward each other, mouths melding in a deep, meaningful kiss that communicated that there was no place else either of them would rather be.

It wasn't long before the heat that had dialed back to a slow simmer flared again and the movements of their mouths, of their bodies became hungry and needy. His hands slid back up to caress her breasts under her shirt, hungry for the feel of her soft curves. She gradually sat up and reached down to cover his hands with hers. Looking into his eyes, she slowly smoothed his hands higher against her skin so that her clothing rose up over her breasts revealing them to him bit by bit. He held her gaze for a long moment until the urge to look at her bared skin was too powerful to resist.

His eyes traveled down, the anticipation of seeing her intimately building in his lower belly. As he first laid eyes on her, his breath caught and the back of one hand moved to gently brush against her breasts, savoring the moment. His fingers nearly trembled at the force of his reaction to seeing her. Her eyes never left his face and she couldn't help but feel gratified at the reverence and longing she read there.

"Beautiful," he whispered, knowing he was repeating himself from earlier but unable to force his brain cells to function agilely enough to come up with something more creative. From the look of pleasure on her face, it didn't seem she minded.

She leaned down and captured his mouth again, and his hands covered both of her breasts once more, touching, squeezing, cupping. She began rocking their centers together as their kiss deepened, became hotter, more demanding.

Suddenly they heard an obviously faked cough and a loud jingle of keys as they were apparently dropped to the floor outside the door. Twice. They froze, then hurriedly worked to pull Ziva's shirt back down. He managed to get two of the buttons she'd undone on his shirt closed back up before the apartment door began opening. Ziva started to rise up off him, but he grasped her hips and pressed her against his erection with a meaningful look.

Oh.

He figured it was far less embarrassing for her sister to catch them lying somewhat innocently on top of one another than for her to catch sight of his raging hard-on through his jeans. Ziva's eyes sparkled with sexy humor before she schooled her expression. She stayed where she was, propping herself up a little on his chest with crossed forearms, attempting to look as casual as possible under the circumstances.

Tali caught a glimpse of them on the couch and hurriedly averted her eyes. She turned her back and made a big production of locking the door and putting her keys in her bag. Unfortunately, she had to come near the couch to get around to the hallway where her room was. She walked almost sideways, throwing her left hand up to shield her eyes. If they hadn't been preoccupied with trying to calm their raging hormones, both Gibbs and Ziva would have found the situation almost comical.

"Sorry," Tali murmured, her voice subdued. "Just pretend I'm not even here." She hurried to her room, but neither of the two on the couch missed the fact that her voice was thick with tears that had already been shed and were obviously threatening again.

Ziva let out a frustrated breath and dropped her forehead to Jethro's chest. He pressed a kiss to her hair and ran soothing hands over her back.

"Guess they're off again," he observed wryly.

"Apparently," she drawled with a resigned sigh.

They held each other for a moment, then Ziva reluctantly climbed off Jethro and pulled him up to sit beside her. In that age-old trick women had perfected since the dawn of this particular undergarment, Ziva slipped her loosened bra out through one of her sleeves with a shimmy that made his throat go dry and his dick twitch. She absentmindedly dropped it on the couch beside her, seemingly unaware that he was close to coming undone by her movements. There was some space between them as they leaned back against the cushions, though their hands found each other as though they couldn't bear not to be touching.

Both of them rested their heads against the back of the couch, eyes closed, trying to slow their breathing to a slower pace.

"Jethro," Ziva said suddenly in a quiet voice. "Do you want to have sex with me?"

His heart nearly stopped and a fire burned in his belly. The erection that had slowly but surely been softening a little immediately stood to attention again.

"God, yes," he groaned with feeling. Then, realizing he could have undoubtedly sounded more romantic or something, he amended with a warm, "I mean, yes," as he raised her hand to his lips to press a kiss to her fingers.

He felt her head turn toward him, still resting against the back of the couch. He opened his eyes and mirrored the direction she was now facing.

With a grin and a sexy sparkle in those big brown eyes, she informed him, "I liked your first answer."

He grinned back and squeezed her hand. Ziva forced her mind back to the problem at hand, facing forward so she could think more clearly.

"I want to be with you, too, but between my job, your job and my sister…" her frustrated voice trailed off. Then she looked at him with determination. "We need a plan."

He had laid his head back again, closing his eyes, trying to force his hard shaft to relax again by thinking of cold showers, bathtubs full of ice … crap. The ice cube idea quickly morphed into a mental image of running a melting cube along her naked body, catching the rivulets of water with his tongue. Okay, that was _not_ helping. He forced his mind back to her words.

"Plans are good," he agreed in a voice that aimed for composed, but failed miserably. "I like plans."

"I will think on it," she promised.

He looked at her, then reached over and grasped her waist with both of his hands. In a fluid movement, he lifted her and placed her across his lap. He kissed her softly, sensually. The hunger was there, but he managed to keep it on a leash.

Coming up for air, he nuzzled her neck. "Think fast?" he asked hopefully, wrapping his arms around her.

She nodded wordlessly, pressing his head into her neck in an effort to soothe them both.

Just then muffled sobs could be heard coming from down the hall. With a deeply felt sigh, Ziva rested her head against Jethro's.

"Sounds like Tali needs her sister," he observed, "and maybe even some apple pie."

"You are willing to share?" she smiled down at him, referring to both her and the dessert.

"Being willing and being happy about it are two different things," he responded dryly, "but, yeah, I'll share. Could even go, if you want."

"No, I want you to stay," Ziva answered firmly. "Let me check on her and perhaps she will join us for dessert." Ziva traced his features lightly with her fingertips, committing every line, every curve to memory. "Actually, I would like her to get to know you a little more, if you would not mind."

She knew she was sending an unspoken message that she was hoping he'd be around for a long, long time and she held her breath a little anxiously for his response. Maybe _he_ would think it was too soon for _that_. He gave a ghost of a smile.

"Okay by me," he admitted. Tightening her arms back around his neck, Ziva hugged him while burying her face in his neck. Happiness bubbled up inside her that he hadn't made a run for the door. "Just hope she doesn't try to convince you that you could do better than this cranky old Marine."

Ziva raised her face to look into his eyes. "You are the best man I have ever met," she informed him earnestly. Then that teasing light came back into her eyes. "It is more likely that she would decide she wants someone like you for herself – but I found you first. Understood?"

"Understood," he confirmed with his characteristic half-smile tugging up one side of his mouth.

She dropped a quick kiss to his mouth and climbed off his lap before she did something stupid like admit out loud that she was falling in love with him. _Falling? _a skeptical voice snorted in her head; _try "have fallen_." She shushed that voice inwardly and headed toward her sister's room.

"Uh, Ziva?" She turned back at the sound of his voice to see her black satin bra dangling from one of his long fingers. "Can't believe I'm actually saying this, but you might want to put this back on."

She grinned, but agreed and stepped back to take it from him. It was all he could do to let it go without using her grip on it to pull her to him again.

"If you want, you could take out some plates and forks," she called back as she walked away. "Both are to the right of the sink."

"Think I have time for a cold shower first?" he murmured, half to himself. Judging from her sexy chuckle, she'd heard him.

She stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder as he rose from the couch. "If I have to tough it out, so do you," she teased. With a quick saucy wink, she continued down the hall, pausing in the bathroom to get her clothing put to rights again.

Jethro went into the kitchen with a grin on his face that seemed to be at the ready whenever he was around her. It was a new feeling for him, but one he could really get used to.

_TBC..._


	6. Conversations

_A/N: Special THANKS to my dear friend iyimgrace for the recent avatar assist. No wonder Ziva was having trouble resisting Gibbs in that white button-down shirt, hmmm? ^_^_

* * *

><p>Ziva knocked on Tali's door.<p>

"I'm all right, Ziva," the younger woman called out, though the emotion in her voice suggested she was anything but.

Ziva opened the door and stepped into the room, closing them in. Tali was laying face-down on her bed hugging a pillow, her face buried in it. Ziva sat on the side of the bed and rubbed Tali's back soothingly.

"You do not sound 'all right'," Ziva said gently to her baby sister. Tali hated it when she called her that, but it would always be true in Ziva's mind.

"Sorry I interrupted your date," Tali said, her voice still raw from her tears. "I know you wanted to be alone with him tonight."

"We have been alone for a while," Ziva pointed out, leaving out the part where she wished it could have been longer. "Besides, this is your home, too; you are allowed to be here."

Running a hand through Tali's short dark hair, Ziva admitted wryly, "In fact, perhaps it is good you came home when you did. I was in serious jeopardy of breaking my eight date rule right there on the couch."

Tali rolled onto her back and looked up at her sister in surprise. "Wow. You haven't broken that since you set it – what? Five years ago?"

"I know," Ziva admitted ruefully. Then a shyly anticipatory light came into her eyes. "Honestly, I am pretty sure that rule is destined to be broken before much longer and I cannot remember the last time I was this…" her hands moved expressively "… excited to be with someone."

Tali caught her sister's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'm really glad for you, Zi."

"Thank you," Ziva smiled affectionately. "I actually did not come in here to talk about me. Another fight with Jarrod, hmmm?"

Tali closed her eyes against the tears that threatened again and nodded.

"Same issue? Or something new?" Ziva asked. The main source of difficulty between Tali and Jarrod had to do with his commitment issues – or lack thereof, to be more precise.

"Same," the younger woman sighed. She opened pained eyes and looked at Ziva. "I think it's really over this time. I just can't keep doing this. I love him and I want to be in a committed relationship with him, but he just … doesn't." Her voice broke at the end.

Tali looked at her big sister pleadingly. "Do you think it's me?"

"No, it is most definitely not about you," came Ziva's immediate and firm response. Cupping Tali's chin gently, she continued. "You are smart and strong and fun and beautiful, and it is his loss if he would rather play the field than date only you."

"I wish I could believe that," Tali whispered.

"You will," Ziva predicted, "when your heart has had a chance to heal so that you can find your confidence again. Until then, I will believe it for you."

Tali wrapped her arms around her sister's waist, burying her head in the older woman's chest. Ziva held her close for a long moment, resting her cheek against Tali's hair. With a heartfelt sigh, Tali breathed out, "_Ani ohevet otach, achoti_."

"_Gam ani ohevet otach_," Ziva answered with a squeeze. "Now, what would you say to joining Jethro and me for a piece of my homemade apple pie?" She pulled away just far enough that she could look down into Tali's face.

Tali's eyes lit up at the mere mention of Ziva's apple pie. No one could cook and bake like her sister. Then she shook her head regretfully.

"You don't need me intruding on your date more than I already have," Tali demurred, laying back against the pillows.

"It is all right," Ziva reassured her. "Besides, I would like you to get to know him a little more."

"Sounds serious," Tali observed quietly, searching her sister's eyes.

"Feels serious," Ziva admitted, "in a really fun, butterflies-in-my-stomach, little bit scary sort of way."

"What's scary about it?" Tali asked.

Ziva paused before answering, considering her words.

"I am falling for him very hard and very fast," she said slowly. "My head whispers that perhaps I should slow down … but I don't want to, even if I could."

Tali could see on Ziva's face that she was still reflecting on the question and she waited for the rest.

"And…" Ziva continued, her gaze shifting to stare out the window, "I do not think he is always an easy man to care for ... but I am also certain he is completely worth it and I love the way I feel when I am with him."

She shook off her contemplative thinking and her eyes twinkled down at her sister. "Of course, the fact that he is so incredibly _hot_ is another point in his favor."

The two sisters exchanged a delightfully amused and knowing grin that underscored the close bond they shared.

"Now, how about that pie?" Ziva asked, smoothing Tali's long bangs that swept across her forehead.

Her easy smile was contagious, but Tali still seemed a little unsure about joining them.

"I am going to drizzle warm caramel sauce over it," Ziva drawled enticingly in a sing-song voice, knowing her sister loved it that way.

Tali's stomach growled as if in answer and both women laughed.

"Sold," Tali declared, "though I must look a mess."

"Nothing a little cool water won't fix," her sister advised wisely. With a squeeze of Tali's hand, Ziva stood up. "See you in the kitchen?"

Tali nodded.

As the older woman touched the doorknob, Tali called out, "Zi?" Her voice was subdued, but sounded much more like herself than it had earlier.

Ziva turned back with her eyebrows raised in question.

"_Todah_," Tali husked.

"_Eyn davar_, _achoti,_" Ziva returned with a smile. Opening the door, Ziva cautioned her, "Do not take too long or I cannot guarantee there will be any left. Jethro says he likes apple pie almost as much as he likes me." With a playful grin, she was out the door.

Ziva found her date in the kitchen with his back leaning casually against the counter, his hands braced on either side of him. The plates and forks were laid out nearby. He gave her a smile as she walked in.

She stepped over to him. In perfect harmony, she slid her arms around his waist as his automatically wrapped around her shoulders. She laid her head against his chest.

"I would like to kick that Jarrod into next week," she muttered darkly.

"Want help?" he offered.

She shook her head.

"I could handle Jarrod," Ziva said confidently. "But you could be there to keep everyone else out of my way." He felt her cheek move against him as a small smile curved her lips.

"Deal," he promised. "Is she coming out?"

Ziva nodded, then moved out of his arms toward the coffee maker. "Do you want coffee with your pie?" she asked, already knowing his answer. She pulled out the coffee and began putting water in the carafe.

"Guess you've figured out the answer is yes," he smirked. She threw him a knowing wink in answer.

After she'd ground the beans and added them to the brewing basket, she made him turn around so she could add her mysterious ingredient. "No peeking," she admonished when she felt him try to look as she reached up into a cabinet.

He grinned inwardly, but dutifully turned away. "One of these days I'm going to get that secret out of you," he predicted.

"We will see," she answered coyly.

She started the coffee and gave him permission to look around again. Ziva then went to the refrigerator and pulled out a small jar.

"What's that?" Jethro asked curiously as she began spooning some kind of sauce into a small pitcher to warm in the microwave.

"My special topping for apple pie," she informed him. "I must say, people find it hard to resist."

He came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips.

"There's a lot about you that's hard to resist," he nearly growled in her ear, cozying up to her.

She pushed back against him with a low noise that fell somewhere between a moan and a sigh. "That feeling is certainly mutual."

Just then, they heard Tali coming. Gibbs pressed a kiss to Ziva's temple and moved to lean against the counter beside her, his arms and ankles crossed in a relaxed manner.

"Do I have to hide my eyes from this, too?" Jethro teased in an attempt to get his mind off his libido, tilting his head toward her undisclosed ingredient.

Ziva shook her head with a curve to her lips. "No. It will be all too obvious soon enough," she said, turning on the microwave.

Just then Tali appeared in the doorway, seeming a little hesitant. Jethro and Ziva both looked at her with a welcoming smile.

"Hey, Tali," Jethro said.

"Hello, Agent Gibbs," Tali said a little formally.

"People just call me Gibbs," he told her. Then he glanced at Ziva affectionately. "Well, most people."

Ziva smiled back and placed her hand on one of his biceps for a quick squeeze.

"Tali, why don't you get some mugs down for coffee and glasses for milk for whoever wants it," Ziva suggested. Then she explained to Jethro, "I like coffee with dessert, too, though Tali and I also like milk with our pie."

Soon the three of them were sitting around the kitchen table enjoying Ziva's dessert and each other's company. After his first bite of the still-warm apple pie with even warmer caramel sauce on it, Jethro practically moaned in ecstasy. Ziva could see his appreciation on his face even before he told her it was delicious and she beamed with pleasure.

"Nobody bakes like Ziva," Tali confided in Gibbs, making her own sound of approval.

"Except our mother," Ziva added, "but thank you." She smiled at Tali.

"You know," Tali continued, changing the direction of the conversation, "Ziva doesn't usually date people from work, even the customers. She has a rule about that."

Gibbs grinned and looked at Ziva. "Yeah? Got a rule about that myself," he revealed. He looked at Tali. "She got any other rules?"

Tali nodded. "A couple. She figures she's about to break another one with you, too," Tali added devilishly, resolutely ignoring her older sister's death glare in favor of sudden interest in finishing off her pie.

Gibbs looked at Ziva with his eyebrows raised in question. He was surprised to see her blushing. She rose from her seat.

"Anyone for seconds?" she asked, scooping up Jethro's empty plate and moving to the counter to get him another piece before he could answer.

Tali looked at Gibbs, her eyes twinkling. "No, thanks. I am full from the first piece."

She got up and placed her dishes in the dishwasher, then moved over to Ziva and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "The pie was scrumptious, as usual. Now I think I'll hit the shower and spend some time with my new book – and leave you two kids alone again for a while." Her impish grin was contagious and only grew when Ziva rolled her eyes at her sister.

As she made her escape, she looked back over her shoulder at Jethro. "It was nice seeing you again, Gibbs."

He gave her that half-smile that had sent more than one heart all aflutter. "You, too. 'Night, Tali."

Ziva was still fiddling with warming the caramel for his second piece, her back to him in a clear effort to avoid his certain curiosity. Jethro got up from his chair and walked up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he nuzzled her neck.

"So, Ms. David," he drawled, "what's this other rule I've inspired you to break?"

She didn't answer at first, ostensibly focusing on the task at hand.

"Talk to me, Ziva," he urged in a sexy voice, catching her ear lobe not-quite-gently between his teeth before easing the slight sting with his tongue.

She managed to hold out until he slid his lips to her throat and added, "Please?"

Now, how was a woman supposed to resist all that?

She sighed and sat the pitcher of caramel down on the counter. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she wrapped her arms over his where they still encircled her waist.

"I have this eight-date rule," she informed him. "About sex."

When she didn't immediately go on, he turned her so she was facing him, caught between him and the counter.

Resting one hand at the small of her back, he raised her chin with the other so he could see her eyes. "Go on," he said.

After a slight pause, she explained, "The rule is no sex before the eighth date." She squirmed under his gaze and averted her eyes.

"That's what you meant earlier about usually going slower," he realized.

"You probably think it sounds ridiculous, especially after …" She nodded toward the couch.

"Sounds like being cautious to me," he said, tucking her hair behind her left ear. "Nothin' wrong with that."

She relaxed a little at his words and laid her head against his shoulder, one hand coming up to play with the buttons of his shirt. The hand that had just left her hair moved to trace soothing circles on her back.

"It's not that I do not like sex," she explained. "I do."

"Glad to hear it," he grinned against the top of her head. She huffed out a brief sound of amusement before becoming quietly serious again.

"I just realized that sex meant something to me in a relationship and rushing it didn't always go along with that," she continued. "Granted, I spent more time focused on work than on having a social life, but still … I wasn't happy with the way that part of my life was going. I told myself that setting a minimum number of dates would take some pressure off the physical side of things and allow me to get to know someone well enough to decide if I wanted to take things that far."

Gibbs continued to hold her close, his arms gentle, comforting. He didn't speak, sensing there was more to it than that.

She released a small sigh. "To be perfectly honest, I think it was also about protecting myself. Trust and sex are tangled together for me, and the trust part can take time. I had not always honored that, but I needed to."

Somehow she could feel his embrace become even warmer at her words.

"But trust is not just about time," she admitted honestly. "Sometimes it is about …"

"Your gut," he finished when her voice trailed off.

"Exactly," she whispered, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

"What's your gut saying about me?" Jethro asked, bringing one hand up to cup the back of her head, gently massaging her scalp.

"That I can trust you," she said quietly. "And –"

She broke off, swallowing the rest of her thought. _And_ _that I have been waiting for you my whole life._

"And?" he nudged.

She shook her head. It was simply too soon for her to make that particular admission.

Gibbs just dropped a kiss to the top of her head and didn't push her further on that.

"How'd you pick eight?" Jethro asked curiously.

She gave him an unconscious squeeze in appreciation for the change of topic.

She shrugged. "Five sounded like too few and ten sounded ridiculous, so I just picked eight."

He contemplated all she'd disclosed for a moment. "How long you had this rule?"

"Five years," she revealed.

"How often have you broken it?" he asked.

"I have not," she said softly. Then she raised those big brown eyes to his. "Until now."

Satisfaction slammed through him and both his hands dropped to her lower back, encouraging her to nestle more closely against him. His body began to respond to her again and she reflexively shifted to cradle him with her hips.

"Haven't actually broken it yet," he pointed out with his half smile, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek.

"I know," she said wryly, "but I'm fairly certain we will. I seem to have a great deal of trouble remembering it when I am around you."

He couldn't help but feel pleasure mixed with a healthy dose of smugness at her confession.

"You know," he drawled in a conspiratorial voice, "if you count all the times I've stopped by your shop, we're way over eight." His eyes twinkled at her.

She smiled, relaxing against him completely. "True."

"Gotta say, I like thinking you want me enough to break your own rule," he admitted with a roguish look in his blue eyes before his gaze became simultaneously tender and serious, "but we'll wait as long as you want."

"Be prepared for that not to last much longer," she advised him softly, but with not a trace of doubt in her tone. She stretched up on her tip toes, aiming for his mouth.

"Don't take this the wrong way," he murmured, "but _oo-rah_." He bent down to meet her half-way and kiss away the grin now curving her lips.

When he let her up for air, he held the sides of her face in his hands, spearing his fingers into her hair. "This means something to me, too, Ziva," he told her honestly. "_You _mean something to me."

She gazed into his brilliant blue eyes and saw nothing but truth there. "You mean something to me, too," she whispered, grasping both of his wrists. Then she rose back up to claim his mouth in another deep, heartfelt kiss.

They slowly separated, lips clinging, only to come together once, twice more. Eventually, she picked up his pie and they sat at the table again, only this time he pulled her onto his lap. The rest of the evening passed with effortless conversation, easy smiles and lots and lots of kissing.

When she finally closed the door behind him later, Ziva wrapped her arms around her middle and leaned back against it. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, barely holding back a joyful grin that could have lit up the room. Little did she know, her date had much the same expression as he climbed into his truck and headed home, his thoughts already on the next time he'd see her again.

* * *

><p><em><span>Hebrew translations<span>:_

_Ani ohevet otach, achoti = I love you, my sister_

_Gam ani ohevet otach = I love you, too_

_Todah = Thank you_

_Eyn davar, achoti = You're welcome, my sister_


	7. Making Plans

_Later that same week…_

Wednesday morning found Team Gibbs at their desks finishing up reports on the case they'd worked the last couple of days. Tony's voice broke the silence.

"So, everybody got Abby's e-mail about going out for drinks on Saturday for Fornell's birthday, right?"

McGee gave a somewhat distracted "Um-hum" while Kate answered "Yes." Gibbs was conspicuously silent.

"Boss?" Gibbs glanced up at his senior agent with a slightly annoyed look.

"Yeah, DiNozzo?"

"You're going, too, right?" Tony asked.

Gibbs just gave a little shrug and went back to his paperwork.

Apparently Tony had developed a death wish because he didn't let it go.

"Did you miss the last line in Abby's e-mail? It said 'This means you, too, Gibbs' – and it was in ALL CAPS. I think she means business, Boss," Tony advised him.

"Got plans," Gibbs grumbled out. At least, he hoped he did.

Kate must have joined Tony on the death wish train because she weighed in with, "You could always bring your friend along." She looked at Gibbs knowingly, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Gibbs fixed his gaze on her, eyebrows raised. "You make it sound like I only have one friend, Kate," Gibbs pointed out, effectively side-stepping her real point – or trying to anyway.

"Oh, no - you have…" Kate made a show of counting silently on her fingers, "six. Eight if you count those two." She nodded toward McGee and Tony.

"Hey!" Tony protested indignantly. "Why wasn't I in the original six? And who are they anyway?"

A twitch of Gibbs' lips was his only reply as he went back to his paperwork.

Kate rattled off, "Ducky, Mike Franks, Fornell, Abby, me…" She paused to grin devilishly at DiNozzo as she included herself. "And his new friend."

"New friend?" Gibbs asked neutrally, not looking up from his desk.

"Mmhmm," Kate smiled perkily. "You know - the one who's responsible for the new logo on your coffee cups and your unusually good mood." She grinned unabashedly at him at that point, her eyes daring him to contradict her.

He gave her one of his silent speaking looks first, then allowed her to see an answering gleam in his own blue eyes.

"Guess I could see if she wants to go," he admitted.

Kate smiled with satisfaction. Her work here was done – and the team would hopefully soon be meeting the mysterious woman who had their boss smiling a lot more than usual these days.

A short while later, Gibbs headed to Ziva's shop for his mid-morning coffee fix. Since things were slow back at NCIS, he was hoping she wouldn't be too busy to take a break with him. His luck was holding because there was no line at the counter, though he noted many of the tables were filled. He felt a sense of satisfaction on her behalf at how successful her business had become in such a short time.

Another one of Ziva's young baristas was behind the counter. "Good morning, Agent Gibbs," she said with a smile.

He wasn't quite sure just when he'd become such a fixture that all her staff knew his name, but he liked it. A lot.

"Morning, Andrea," he answered. "Ziva around?"

She nodded. "She's back in her office. Want me to get her?"

"That's okay," he said. "I know the way." He tossed her one of his half-smiles and went down the hallway to Ziva's office. He knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," was the clearly distracted response.

He opened the door and waited for her to look up.

"Yes?" she said, still looking at her computer screen where she was clearly working on her accounts.

Either she'd been at this for a while or something was frustrating about the task because she was in the process of pulling her hair out of the braided ponytail that she normally wore it in for work, as though she was trying to relax. He was mesmerized for a moment as he leaned against the door jamb and watched her fingers rub against her scalp, shaking out her long mane.

Not for the first time, he was struck by just how attracted to her he was. She was gorgeous, made great coffee and had her own set of rules. She also had this way of understanding him that frankly baffled him, even as it warmed and kinda scared the hell out of him. She was perfect for him. However, he didn't kid himself that he was anyone's idea of perfect, not even hers.

"Hey," he said softly. He smiled when her head lifted right up at the sound of his voice, distinct pleasure on her face.

"Well, hello there," she said with a welcoming curve to her lips, immediately rising from her chair and stepping to him as he came on in.

She pushed the door shut behind him and crowded him up against it, sliding her hands up his chest to loop them around his neck. They hadn't seen each other since Sunday due to the demands of closing this last case and she was happy he was here. The kiss she pulled him into communicated that very well.

Once they came up for air, he looked down at her affectionately. "Miss me?" he asked, his blue eyes glinting with warm humor.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked, giving him a cheeky look.

He grinned.

"Have you solved your case?" she asked. He nodded.

"Good. I will get your coffee for you. Do you have time to sit for a bit?" she asked hopefully.

"Mhm," he responded. Then something moved in his eyes that she didn't quite catch before it was gone. "Got a question for you first."

"Oh? Ask away," she said, her body still resting against his.

"Team's going out Saturday night for drinks," he started. "It's Tobias' birthday."

He'd described the FBI agent to her previously in one of their conversations and she knew he was a friend, a good one.

"Wanna come with me?" he asked.

He tried to come off as casual, but she could tell that he was bracing himself for the possibility that she might say no. Her heart gave a happy little leap at his question and she allowed him to see it on her face. He started to relax.

She looked into his eyes. "Do you want me to come with you?"

He nodded, his eyes saying everything his words didn't.

"Then I would love to," she said with a curve to her lips. He silently let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and gave her his characteristic smile.

"Introducing me to your friends, hmmm?" she drawled, running a finger along his bottom lip. "Be careful, Agent Gibbs; a girl could get the idea you're becoming quite serious about her."

Her tone was teasing, but he caught the hint of vulnerability beneath it … that same uncertainty that had suddenly gripped him about whether or not she would want to go out with his team, despite their admissions to each other on Sunday.

"She'd be right," he told her quietly, looking into her eyes as he cupped her jaw and rubbed his thumb over her soft cheek.

A breathtakingly beautiful smile spread over Ziva's face.

"Well, isn't that a happy coincidence," she answered in a voice husky with emotion, unable to look away from his eyes. "I have it on very good authority that she feels exactly the same way about you." She stretched up on tip-toe and captured his lips in a kiss that rocked him to his toes.

After a few long minutes, they pulled apart.

She looked up at him thoughtfully.

"You looked like you thought I might say no," she said slowly. "Did you think I wouldn't want to go?"

He shrugged and his gaze slid from hers. She waited expectantly, hoping he would elaborate. Uncharacteristically, he found himself explaining.

"On Sunday," he began, "there was a sentence you didn't finish."

She knew exactly what sentence he was talking about, but she held her silence for now.

"Maybe you're still not sure about things …" he continued, "… about me."

He tucked her hair behind her ear, the tenderness in his gesture sending a tacit message of his own.

Her heart rate kicked up as the words she'd kept to herself on Sunday went through her mind again. _And_ _that I have been waiting for you my whole life. _She hadn't finished that thought out loud because she'd been worried about exposing too much of herself and that it might be more than he would want to know just yet. Caught up in her own anxieties, it hadn't occurred to her that he might read it as some kind of hesitation on her part about being with him and he sure hadn't given her a clue that night that he had.

While some uncertainty is natural in the early stages of building a relationship, she didn't want anything she said or didn't say leaving him with questions as to how she felt about him. Clearly, at least one of them needed to stick more than just a toe into this particular water.

She cupped his face gently in both of her hands and looked at him warmly.

"Jethro," she said quietly. "That sentence was about being the opposite of 'not sure.'"

There was a pregnant pause as she watched realization, relief and heat flicker in his eyes in quick succession.

"Yeah?" he husked.

"Yeah," she confirmed with a tender smile. "And someday I will tell you exactly what I was thinking when I am more certain that you want to hear it."

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then added, "I was worried about saying too much, too soon – for both of us."

He looked back into her brown eyes, seeing nothing but honest emotion there. Gibbs pressed a kiss to her forehead, and left his lips there for a long moment.

"Got a feeling I'm gonna want to hear it," he revealed, speaking against her skin.

"Yeah?" she copied him.

"Yeah," he answered, tipping his head back to look at her.

They exchanged a warm smile that was full of affection and more than a little wonder. The kiss that followed finished the process of putting their insecurities to rest, at least for a while.

After they'd pulled apart, Ziva said, "Come on. Let's get your coffee and you can fill me in on the details for Saturday."

They sat close together on a bench outside her shop for a while, talking easily. When it was time for him to go, he pressed a kiss to her cheek before striding away from her down the sidewalk. Her eyes followed him and he turned back to look at her as though he could feel her watching. With his characteristic half-smile curving his lips, he lifted his hand in acknowledgement before resuming his walk back to work. Her heart swelled with emotion just looking at him.

She'd had an idea percolating in her brain the last couple of days and it gave her a hard nudge. With sudden clarity, she knew that it was time to see if she could put it into action.

* * *

><p>Ziva called Jethro about three o'clock on Saturday after she'd made her way up to her apartment from her shop.<p>

"Hey," he said softly in answer after he'd tossed down the sander he'd been using on his boat to pick up the phone. She could hear his smile in his voice. Hers got wider.

"Hey yourself," she responded.

"Still at work?" he asked.

"Nope," she answered, borrowing one of his casual responses, though he could hear an underlying excitement in her tone and wondered what was up. He'd soon find out.

"I just got up to my apartment to get ready for our date tonight," she continued, "and I thought I would mention that -"

She paused for effect. "I have a plan."

In the space of a couple of heart beats, he put it together. "You do, huh?" he responded, aiming for nonchalance and falling far short.

"Mmhmm," she grinned, the reason for her excitement now abundantly clear. "The next time you see Tali, you may congratulate her on becoming the new weekend manager."

"Means you get the weekends off now?" he asked hopefully.

"That is what it means," she assured him. She could practically hear his mental _Oo-rah!_ It was all she could do not to giggle out loud and she _never_ giggled. "She has been asking me about it. I realized she was ready – and I finally had the motivation to try it. Can you guess what that is?"

"Just call me motivation - ?" Gibbs dead-panned.

Her laugh skittered deliciously up his spine.

"I knew you didn't earn that team leader position on looks alone," Ziva teased him. "I stayed in the background today and she did fine, so I was thinking of packing a bag to bring with me tonight …"

Her voice dropped seductively at the end with just a hint of shyness, "If you want, that is."

"Oh, I want," he practically growled, sending shivers down her own spine. She could practically hear his smirk over the phone as he continued. "'Course, if we accidentally forget the bag, maybe I could just keep you naked all weekend." The hope in his voice was unmistakable beneath the joking.

Her chuckle this time could only be described as alluring. Her voice continued in that low tone that stirred his body. "You can get me naked as often as you want, even if we remember the bag."

His heart pounded and his eyes closed as he pictured her naked in his bed … on his couch … up against the wall … His breath caught and his body hardened even further. He was silent for so long, she got a little concerned.

"Jethro?" she asked almost tentatively.

He shook himself out of his stupor. "I'm here," he managed. "Just … having a visual."

She relaxed and grinned like a fool at his words. "I hope you are enjoying it."

"Oh, yeah," he confirmed. "Gonna enjoy it a lot more in person." Now his voice took on a sensual note that quickened her heart rate and had her melting inside.

"I think we both will," she envisioned flirtatiously.

"Don't suppose I could pick you up right now?" he asked hopefully.

She chuckled lightly. "As much as I would like to say yes, I am not ready yet. A woman likes to pay attention to a few details when she hopes to impress her date."

"You've already impressed me," he pointed out. "Don't know if my heart can take much more."

"Your heart and the rest of you will hold up just fine," she predicted, fully aware of the double entendre. "I am quite certain of it."

She could all but feel his grin over the phone.

"Still on for grabbing dinner before we meet up with the others?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes," she said. "Now, I had better get off of here so I can be ready for you."

"See you soon," he promised, his voice husky with anticipation.

"Goodbye, Jethro," Ziva said softly.

"Bye," he returned before closing his phone without even realizing that she had become the one person he didn't just hang up on when ending a call.

He looked down at the phone in his hand thoughtfully, then tossed it up in the air and caught it a few times, grinning from ear to ear. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Gibbs then had the thought that she wasn't the only one who wanted to do some impressing. Leaving his boat without a second thought, he jogged up the steps making a mental list of all the things he should do: _get the dishes out of the sink ... straighten up the living room … change the sheets – _that one had his visual imagination going again.

Maybe he'd better make his shower a cold one if he was going to last through dinner and drinks – drink, he corrected himself; he didn't anticipate staying at the bar long whether it was Tobias' birthday or not. Thinking of the shower added another job to his to-do list: _clean the bathroom._ Good thing Ziva had some getting ready to do, too, he decided.

* * *

><p>At six o'clock, Gibbs knocked on Ziva's apartment door, his heart beating double time. He was wearing black pants, paired with a black dress shirt he'd unearthed from the back of his closet and a black jacket. His typical uniform of polo shirt and white t-shirt was still his usual style, but … while he didn't analyze it, it was as though choosing different attire sometimes when he was with her underscored that this was different. She was different. Hell, <em>he<em> was different when he was with her.

Then Ziva opened the door and he forgot to breathe.

She was wearing a soft sleeveless dress shimmering with subtle shades of browns, creams, reds, blues, greens … he couldn't take them all in. The deep V neckline was trimmed with a few gem-like beads at the point, drawing his eye to her breasts which were gently cupped by the material. The rest of the dress fit her slim figure down to her hips, where it began to flare gently until it ended mid-thigh. Her hair was mostly straightened, but curled under down the right side and at the ends. Most of the long tresses were swept to the right, with the left side tucked behind her ear. Earrings and a barely-there necklace that matched the beads on the dress completed the outfit.

He supposed it was one of those dresses that could either be dressed up or more casual, but all he knew was that she looked drop-dead beautiful. She greeted him warmly with a smile filled with anticipation, her eyes fairly snapping with excitement. When he just stood there for a moment drinking her in, her smile widened and she reached out to pull him inside.

She closed the door and leaned back against it in a sexy pose, still holding onto his hand.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," he husked, feeling his brain cells all but leaking out his ears.

"It appears you like my dress," she observed with a hot, yet satisfied look.

"Oh, yeah," he conceded with great feeling.

"That was the goal," she admitted, tugging him against her and pulling him into a kiss that completed the act of turning his brain into goo.

By the time they came up for air, her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was pressing her against him, running his hands over her back, her hips, her bottom … luxuriating in the velvety feel of the dress between his callused hands and her toned body.

He rested his forehead against hers.

"You look amazing," he told her quietly, with feeling.

"So do you," she breathed, running a hand appreciatively over his chest. "Every time I think you couldn't possibly look more handsome, you show up in something that proves me wrong."

One of his hands slid up her spine, tracing the zipper that went from her very fine ass to the deep V that mirrored the one in the front. His fingers skimmed along the exposed skin of her back and across one smooth, shapely shoulder. His touch continued down her arm, raising goosebumps on her flesh as he went. Finally, his hand found hers and their fingers laced together.

Pulling back just enough to look into her big brown eyes, he asked hopefully, "Maybe we could just go straight to my place?"

She responded with a light, sexy chuckle. "As tempting as that sounds, what would your friends think? Besides, I am sure Agent Fornell would be disappointed if you missed his birthday celebration."

"Fornell who?" he asked distractedly, his eyes following the deep V of her neckline once more, admiring the way the material hugged her breasts then formed a band just under them, accentuating her small curves.

She laughed delightedly.

His eyes came up to meet hers, a heated yet humorous twinkle in the back of his eyes. "Besides, there's not a man or woman alive who'd blame me for passing on drinks in a crowded bar to spend time alone with you."

She squeezed his hand in appreciation and gave him a bright smile.

"Nicely said, Agent Gibbs," she congratulated him. "But I still think we should go for a while. I am actually looking forward to meeting the people who play such big part in your life every day. Perhaps I should change into something else?" Her tone was teasing.

He shook his head, not even having to think twice about that.

"Well, perhaps when I cover up a little with my jacket you will be able to concentrate enough to drive," she bantered, moving to pick up her camel-colored short jacket. He immediately took it from her and held it so she could slip into it. It was made of a light cotton material and had lapels that were cut like a blazer. It stopped just above her waist and the sleeves ended at her forearms.

Her graceful movements and the feel of her silky hair in his hands as he lifted it out from under the jacket only served to make him want her more, as if that were even possible.

"How's this?" she asked with a smile turning to face him, laying a hand on his chest.

While the form-fitting jacket did cover up more of her skin, it did nothing to detract from the dress or her gorgeous self. And her sexy legs remained uncovered … he swallowed hard. He had a sudden vision of the two of them in his bed, those legs wrapped around him holding him possessively as he moved inside her. His eyes closed and he tried to grab for control – and to soften his hardening body.

"Jethro?" she asked softly, searching his face, a hint of concern in her voice. "Are you all right?"

He opened his eyes and the raw desire she found there blazing like icy blue flame took her breath away.

With a deep breath, he inwardly shook himself and gave her that characteristic half-smile that tended to make women weak in the knees – she was no exception.

"Never better," he assured her in a voice husky with emotion, laying a hand over the one she had resting on his chest and giving it a squeeze.

She relaxed and gave him a bright smile that said she knew the feeling.

"I want to kiss you again," he murmured, lifting a hand to cup her jaw, "but I'm afraid we wouldn't make it out the door." He smiled ruefully.

"You know," she pointed out in a conspiring tone, "the sooner we go, the sooner we will be at the bar … and the sooner we can _leave_ the bar." Her eyes twinkled gleefully.

His gleamed back. "Have I mentioned that I love the way you think?"

"No, I do not believe you have," she answered, winking flirtatiously.

"Consider it said," he told her, his eyes communicating that and so much more.

Her gaze heated up and her voice dropped to a sultry tone. "I must admit that, as much as I am looking forward to meeting your friends, I am looking forward to ending the evening in your bed even more."

He cradled her face in his hands. "You're sure about that?" God, he wanted her, but he didn't want her regretting moving faster than she normally did these days.

"Completely," she asserted without hesitation, radiating nothing but confidence.

Her eyes steadfastly on his, she continued in a low, husky voice.

"I want you, Jethro … more than physically, more than I have ever wanted anyone. I want you to know exactly how much."

He leaned his forehead against hers, unable to figure out how the hell he'd gotten this lucky.

"Want you, too," he husked, unable to keep from taking her mouth again this time. The kiss was long and deep and communicated their mutual desire more than words ever could.

The smile they shared when they finally pulled apart said everything else they needed to for now.

He moved to pick up the tote bag she'd packed for the overnight stay. She slipped a small purse over her head so that the strap sliced sideways across her body.

He held out a hand to her. "Ready?"

"Ready," she answered meaningfully. Taking his hand, she led him out the door.

* * *

><p><em><span>AN: Once again, special thanks and a hug goes out to iyimgrace for the new avatar for this chapter. Gracias, amiga! Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear what you think. =)_


	8. Moments Like These

_Saturday night …_

Ziva knew a little about the others who would be there tonight from previous conversations they'd had about the people with whom Jethro worked. Over dinner at an outdoor cafe, she nudged him into telling her more. Hoping it would keep his mind out of his bedroom for five minutes – _yeah, good luck with that _a voice snarked inside his head – Gibbs answered her questions.

When she asked him to describe each one, he fumbled around with what to say, adorably ill at ease. With a decided twinkle in her eye, she suggested he try thinking of them as suspects. He gave her a look, but then rattled off descriptors without even having to think much. She grinned triumphantly. Gibbs shook his head. His kiss to her temple and his wry smile suggested he couldn't decide whether to be impressed with her or disgruntled with himself - or both.

In case someone made a reference to it - as they so often did - he somewhat awkwardly admitted that he and Fornell shared an ex-wife. She was clearly surprised and he really didn't know what else to say. When the silence could have become uncomfortable, she didn't let it. In that easy way of hers that continued to amaze him, she met him where he was, then brought him back to the here and now.

She leaned toward him.

"You are not planning on sharing me, are you?" she asked in a stage whisper, somehow managing to sound playful and alluring at the same time.

"There'll be a hockey rink in hell before that happens – and not even then," he growled into her ear, sending the butterflies that had been fluttering all day in her stomach into a positive frenzy.

Her delighted laugh entranced and aroused him. She caught a glimpse of his smile just before he cupped her face in one hand and took her mouth in a heated kiss that reduced her world to this man and the feelings he evoked within her.

After they finished dinner, they headed to the bar where Abby had decreed they would celebrate. Ziva was sitting right next to him on the bench seat of his truck as he drove.

Once he had parked, Gibbs turned his head toward her.

"One drink," he directed, "then we're outta here."

Ziva had noticed an additional sign under the name of the place that indicated there was a band and dancing Thursday through Saturday. Her hand was resting on his thigh and she rubbed it enticingly.

"One drink and one dance," she negotiated, nuzzling her nose against his throat.

He had trouble thinking when she did that, but wasn't so far gone that he forgot that dancing was not his forte.

He looked at her dubiously. "Don't dance much," he admitted.

"We will pick a slow one," she coaxed. "All we'll have to do is wrap our arms around each other and sway a little."

Brushing her lips over his, she murmured, "Please?" She pulled back with a mischievous look in her eyes. "I could even lead, if you like."

He smirked. "You might end up wishing I'd let you, but … one dance," he agreed. Like he could deny her anything, especially tonight.

That beautiful smile curved her lips, the one that made his breath catch, the one he couldn't help but respond to. He climbed out of the truck, holding the door open for her as she slid out after him. Hand in hand they walked into the pub.

The place was fairly large, with an impressive bar that ran practically the length of the building. Most of the tables were grouped on the left side, but there were others around the dance floor toward the right. He stood beside her, their hands still clasped, as he scanned for their group.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! You made it!" came a happy, bouncy voice.

The couple turned toward the voice and Ziva was met with her first view of the perky Goth. Tonight her hair was in two braids tied off with red ribbons. She wore a tight black t-shirt and even tighter black jeans. The outfit was completed by a chunky black and silver belt and a collar round her neck.

"That must be Abby," Ziva guessed with a grin.

"Uh-huh," he smirked, his eyes on his favorite forensic scientist who was currently jumping up and down while waving madly.

Without letting go of Ziva's hand, Gibbs led the way to the table where most of the others had already gathered. A quick glance showed that DiNozzo was the only one missing. Abby was busy orchestrating a shuffle of the chairs to make room for the newcomers. Two empty chairs were placed between Kate and herself.

Gibbs pulled out the one next to his female agent for Ziva and helped her slip her jacket off. After hanging it on the back of her chair, he sat beside her. His friends managed to hide their surprise at his chivalrous behavior – well, except for Fornell, who only bit off his sarcastic comment when Abby kicked him under the table.

Before Jethro could introduce his date, Abby thrust a hand across Gibbs to Ziva. "Hi! I'm Abby, Abby Sciuto. And you must be Gibbs' new friend."

Ziva grinned and shook Abby's hand. "Ziva David," she introduced herself. "And I hope I am more than that." She threw a look up at Gibbs that twinkled merrily.

"Sure are," he answered. "Chief coffee supplier and one hell of an apple pie baker."

The look in his own eyes was teasing, but the tenderness with which he tucked her hair back behind her ear told everyone that she was already so much more than that. From the manner in which Ziva unconsciously leaned toward him in response, it was obvious that the feeling was mutual.

The rest of the table appeared a little dazed. First well-mannered Gibbs … now playful Gibbs? This was already shaping up to be an interesting night. Kate and Abby shared a speaking glance.

"Kate Todd," the attractive brunette to Ziva's left said, introducing herself and holding out a hand for Ziva to shake, as well. "And the rest of this cast of characters includes Tim McGee, Dr. Donald "Ducky" Mallard, and the birthday boy."

Ducky and Tim smiled and said hello.

Fornell raised his bottle of beer in salute toward Ziva. "Agent Tobias Fornell at your service," he said with flair.

"It is nice to meet you," Ziva responded, including everyone at the table with her gaze. "Thank you for including me."

"We're glad you could make it," Kate assured her with a smile.

After some small talk, Jethro asked Ziva, "Want something to drink?"

She nodded. "I will go with you."

They walked up to the bar, her hand once again in Jethro's. They were well aware of five sets of eyes following them, but they were far more interested in each other.

"Way to go Bossman," Abby broke the silence back at the table, her palm connecting with Kate's in a high-five.

"Yes, she _is_ a pleasant surprise, isn't she?" Ducky offered reflectively, his eyes still on the couple. "And she appears to be just what the doctor would order for our friend Jethro."

Meanwhile, Gibbs trapped Ziva's body loosely between his and the bar, his arms braced against the dark wood on either side of her. "What do you want?" he asked.

She leaned back against him.

"You mean, besides you?" His cock twitched against her ass at her provocative question and she subtly pressed against it.

He nearly groaned.

"Are you trying to drive me crazy?" he murmured directly into her ear in a tone that sent shivers skittering down her spine.

She tilted her head up and back against his shoulder with an impish gleam in her eye. "Ummm … yes - ?" she answered honestly, but turning it into a question. Then she looked positively devilish and whispered, "Is it working?"

"Oh, yeah," he sighed out with feeling.

"Good," she responded with a saucy wink.

Willing his body to behave, he tried again. "Now, what'll you have to drink?"

"Something that you'll want to taste on me later," she answered in a tone for his ears only.

This time he did groan and dropped his forehead to her shoulder.

"You're not trying to drive me crazy," he decided. "You're trying to kill me."

"Oh, no, Agent Gibbs," she contradicted him in a sultry tone. "I have plans for you tonight, all of which involve you being alive and well."

Two could play her game, he promptly decided out of self-preservation. He moved one hand to her hip and squeezed it gently, letting his thumb and forefinger rub tantalizingly along the top edge of her panties through her dress. Her swift intake of breath told him he was getting to her, too, he was gratified to note.

He asked if she liked beer or bourbon; she said yes to both, though admitted she preferred the bourbon mixed with something clear and bubbly. He almost managed to stop his grimace at the thought of mixing perfectly good bourbon with anything. She chuckled.

Then a bottle caught his eye. Hmmm … maybe something a little different from his usual choices.

"You like kahlua?" he murmured, his lips close enough to brush her cheek as he spoke, raising goosebumps down her arms.

Coffee-flavored liqueur._ Of course _she thought. She nodded with a small smile.

"Rather be licking it off you, but tasting it on your tongue works, too," he breathed, satisfaction slamming through him when he heard the almost whimpering sound of pleasure she made and felt her press against him even more firmly.

He asked her how she liked it and the double-entendre had her melting as a slideshow of intimate images of the two of them tumbled through her brain. The bartender came over and she managed to be coherent enough to place her order for a kahlua and cream; Gibbs ordered kahlua and coffee for himself. Drinks in hand, they made their way back to the table, both attempting to get their bodies back under control.

After they'd resumed their seats, Gibbs wished Fornell a happy birthday with a salute of his mug. The FBI agent acknowledged him with a nod.

"So, Ziva," Tobias asked, "what do you do when you're not running around with this guy?" He tilted his own beer bottle toward Gibbs before taking a drink.

"Told you, Tobias," Gibbs answered first, placing his arm along the back of her chair and looking completely at ease. "Chief coffee supplier."

Fornell's brows gathered in slight confusion.

"I own a coffee shop called _Brewed Awakenings_," Ziva elaborated. "It is near Jethro's work. In fact, that is where we met."

"Let me guess," Tim said. "Gibbs stopped in for coffee." The others grinned at his matter-of-fact tone. They were surprised when Ziva corrected him.

"Actually, no," she admitted. "Well, not initially."

She looked up at Jethro with a soft smile as she remembered. "He saved me from a nasty fall from a ladder while I was outside my shop hanging a sign. He wasn't too sure about trying my coffee at first, but since he had tossed his aside to come to my rescue, I wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Awww, Gibbs - you're a hero!" Abby interrupted excitedly.

Jethro shook his head. "Not a hero, Abbs. Just in the right place at the right time."

"But you saved Ziva from being hurt," Abby protested in disagreement, unwilling to let him brush it off. "I'd say that makes you a hero." She looked to Ziva for confirmation.

"I agree, Abby," Ziva concurred, flicking her gaze from Abby up to Jethro. With a warm smile aimed at her date, she placed a hand on his knee and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "After that, he kept coming back."

Gibbs gave a light shrug and put in, "Well, yeah. Best coffee I've ever had." The hand along the back of her chair dropped down to her upper arm and hugged her against him briefly in an unspoken message, giving lie to the airiness of his response.

Fornell went still as a stone, then swallowed his mouthful of beer down hard. He looked at Gibbs in disbelief.

"A beautiful woman and an endless supply of coffee?" he asked incredulously. "That's like a wet dream come true for you."

There were various degrees of chuckling, sputtering and choking on drinks around the table at his audacious comment. Ziva paused in the act of lifting her own glass up to her lips and her gaze flew up to Jethro's face.

Gibbs was swallowing a drink of his doctored coffee when he felt her eyes on him.

"What?" he asked, looking down at her.

The shocked disbelief in her expressive brown eyes clearly communicated _Did he really just say that? And aren't you going to say something?_

Then he leaned closer and murmured for her ears only, "It's true."

A thoroughly enchanted laugh left Ziva's throat, her eyes meeting his gleaming blue ones. She then buried her grin in her glass, avoiding the others' eyes for a moment. God, she had fun with him.

"Be right back," Jethro said quietly to his date with a squeeze of her shoulder. He made for the head, inwardly hoping he could actually relieve himself in order to ease the pressure in his groin. Otherwise, this was going to be a long hour or so. Hell, he'd be lucky to last half an hour, he admitted to himself honestly.

"So tell us, Ziva," Kate began good-naturedly. "How'd you get Gibbs to wear that black dress shirt instead of a polo shirt?"

"I had nothing to do with that," Ziva answered with a light laugh. Her eyes sparkling with humor, she added, "But it is a very good look on him, yes?"

"Oh, yeah," Kate and Abby responded in unison, causing everyone to chuckle.

No one said it out loud, but the others knew that this woman had everything to do with his departure from his usual attire, even if she didn't realize it.

Abby turned to Ziva. "Gibbs really threw away his coffee for you?" Her words were not unkind in the least, but were laced with amazement. Everyone at the table knew that was not an action to be taken lightly.

Ziva nodded with a small smile. "You seem surprised."

"Well … yeah," Abby admitted. "I mean, not about the helping part - he would _totally_ do that - but Gibbs and coffee … they go together like bread and butter or, or Superman and his red cape, or …"

"Or Abby and tattoos," McGee supplied with a smile when Abby's voice trailed off, obviously searching for another example.

"Exactly!" Abby agreed with a bright smile. "Thank you, McGee."

He gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

"Jethro does not feel like anybody's hero," Ziva said quietly, "but he cannot help but step in when someone needs assistance, even if sacrifice is involved. I think that's the very definition of heroic."

There was a stunned silence around the table at her perceptive comment. Ziva took a sip of her drink, then noticed everyone had hushed. She glanced at the others, feeling a little uneasy. She directed her question toward Ducky, who seemed to be recovering first.

"Um, did I say something wrong?" she asked in a carefully neutral voice.

"No, no, my dear," he assured her with a look that was as charmed as it was gentle. "It is rather that you said something exactly right."

The others nodded or murmured their agreement. Ziva gave a light shrug, clearly still a little confused by their reaction. She had no way of knowing that they were simply amazed that this woman seemed to have gotten to know the real Gibbs in a relatively short time, when people who had known him for years knew far less about him – and they didn't know the half of it. The couple had been visibly comfortable with each other from the moment they'd arrived; Ziva's comment revealed there was depth to their bond, as well.

"It really is good to meet you," Kate said to Ziva sincerely. "You've been good for him."

"What makes you say that?" Ziva asked with a slight curve to her lips.

"He smiles more," the agent answered.

Ziva's expression took on more than a hint of pleasure.

"I am glad," she answered softly. "He is a man who deserves to smile often."

Before Kate could say anything further, Tony strode up to the table, already talking ninety miles a minute. "Sorry I'm late, Abbs; don't be mad. The –"

He broke off suddenly as his eyes found Ziva. "Well, hellooo, pretty lady," he gushed, dropping unknowingly into Gibbs' seat. He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, amused. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. And you are?"

"Ziva David," she answered, not giving anything else away yet and ignoring the fact that he still held onto her hand.

"Well, Ziva David," he drawled. "Where have you been all my life?"

Ziva tilted her head to the side as though seriously contemplating her answer.

"Since I do not know where all you have been, I have no idea," she answered truthfully. "All I can tell you for sure is that for the past month I have been dating your boss."

Her eyes danced devilishly as the look on his face went from flirtatious to confused to shocked. He dropped her hand like a hot potato and the look of horror on his face was priceless. The others found the situation absolutely hilarious. Point to Ziva.

Just then Gibbs came up behind Tony and slapped him upside the back of his head. "Move it, DiNozzo," he ordered. "My girl, my chair."

Tony practically knocked the chair over in his haste to vacate it. The others couldn't have been enjoying the show any more.

"Uh, sure, Boss. Just a misunderstanding," he babbled.

"Take a seat," Jethro ordered, nodding toward the chair McGee had quietly pulled up to the table between himself and Ducky. And before Tony could stick his foot in his mouth any further, Gibbs added, "And stop talking."

"On it, Boss," Tony answered, then gratefully slunk into the chair.

Gibbs sat beside Ziva and laid a proprietary arm across her shoulders. Their chairs were touching so she was able to settle closely against him, her body nestling into his as though part of him had been hollowed out just for her to fit into.

Talk flowed easily around the table. Ziva enjoyed watching the others interact and learning more about this side of Jethro's life, and the team asked various questions about Ziva's background and her business.

Gibbs looked around the table at one point and was struck by just how right this all felt. Ziva had fit seamlessly into the mix, just like she belonged there. She hadn't said much more than he had, but she'd been an active part of the conversation, listening and laughing along with the others. Without prompting, various folks around the table took turns filling Ziva in on background here and there to make sure she could follow what they were talking about.

He looked down at his date, watching her beautiful face as she listened indulgently to one of Ducky's stories. As though feeling his gaze, she glanced up at him with an easy smile. The banked emotion in his eyes snagged her and she couldn't look away for a moment. Her left hand reached up to take his where it was curved around her shoulder. She laced their fingers together and for just a moment, the rest of the room ceased to exist. His characteristic smile tugged up one side of his mouth and he pulled her close to press a kiss to her temple. Her smile deepened and she leaned against him. The others kept talking without missing a beat, but they didn't miss the display of affection and were inwardly pleased to see it.

After a while, Abby pulled Fornell onto the dance floor, declaring that everyone should dance on their birthday. Ducky and Kate gave in to her urging and followed them.

Ziva and Gibbs had just finished off their drinks as the music slowed down. Ziva looked up at her date. "One drink …" she reminded him softly, looking pointedly at their empty cups, "… and one dance - ?" She tilted her head toward the area set up for dancing, her eyes questioning hopefully.

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he nodded. Standing he held out his hand to her and led her to the dance floor. As they walked, Ziva did not miss all the heads that turned to stare at the man in front of her and she tightened her grip on his hand reflexively, fighting the urge to snap out one word: _Mine_.

Still in their seats, Tony looked at McGee in stunned disbelief. "Who is that man and what has he done with Gibbs?"

Tim gave a small smile. "I'm glad for him, Tony. They seem good together."

"But she's not a redhead," Tony noted with his usual penchant for stating the obvious. His face was arranged in almost comical incomprehension.

"Maybe that's a good thing," McGee responded perceptively.

"And she's _young_-" Tony continued.

"-ger than Gibbs," Tim interrupted. "Yeah – so?"

"By a lot!" Tony commented incredulously.

"Age isn't everything, Tony," McGee told him. His eyes found the couple out on the dance floor. "Just look at them."

Gibbs led Ziva to the far side of the dancing area, then wrapped his arms around her waist as hers slid up around his neck. She smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Mmmm…" she sighed, snuggling against him. "This is nice."

"Yeah, it is," he granted, looking down at her fondly.

They moved easily together in silence for a bit.

"I like your friends," she told him. "And they clearly respect and adore you. That says a lot about you, about the kind of leader you are."

He shrugged that off.

"They're a good bunch," he offered. Then his eyes twinkled, "But don't tell DiNozzo I said that."

She laughed lightly.

"Your secret is safe with me," she promised.

Her eyes darkened with emotion as they roamed over his deliciously handsome face. She continued in a sultry voice, "Want to know a secret of mine?"

"Wanna know all your secrets," he responded, the hand resting low on her back pressing her more firmly against his hips.

"Tali would undoubtedly roll her eyes at me, but I loved it when you called me your girl," she admitted, sliding one hand around to the side of his neck, her thumb smoothing over his jaw.

"You did, huh?" he responded in a low voice, his nose barely brushing hers, his breath caressing her lips as he spoke.

"Mhm," she hummed back, brushing her lips lightly across his.

"Glad to hear it," he said, his gravelly tone sending shivers up and down her spine, "'cause I'm feeling very possessive where you're concerned."

Ziva's fingers slid back around his neck and speared into that silver hair that felt so much softer than it looked.

"Good," she declared with a heated look. "Then you will understand when I start warning all those other women who can't take their eyes off you to back off."

"No one's looking at me," he denied.

She snorted and looked up at him in disbelief.

"If anyone's looking this way, they're looking at you," he guaranteed. His eyes roamed appreciatively over her lovely features.

She looked at him searchingly. When she realized that he really was completely oblivious to the attention he was drawing, a delighted smile lit up her face.

"Oh, you are perfect," she told him on a light laugh, tightening her arms for a moment to give him a hug, raising up on tip-toe to press the side of her face against his.

He shook his head, his own arms squeezing her back.

"Not even close," he murmured, wishing for just a heart beat that he could be, for her.

She pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes.

Cupping his cheek gently in one hand, she informed him quietly, "You are perfect for me."

He stared into her eyes for a long moment. He didn't believe it, but it was clear that somehow … she did.

A beautiful smile slowly curved his lips and put sexy crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes. The expression on his face had her pulse speeding up and her hips pressing closer to his. He ran his hands over her, molding her even more closely to him.

He leaned down to place a soft kiss on her neck, then skimmed his way up to her ear. "Whad'ya know? Was thinking the same thing about you this week."

"You were?" she whispered, leaning back so she could see his face. He didn't miss the hope that was lighting the back of her beautiful brown-eyed gaze.

He nodded, that half-smile of his tugging one side of his mouth up as happiness bloomed on her face.

Ziva couldn't miss the affection coupled with desire burning in those head-turning blue eyes. She pulled his mouth to hers for a kiss that started out warm, soft, clinging … then deepened as she welcomed his tongue into her mouth to caress hers.

Slowly she pulled her head back, looking up at him with another smile that took his breath away. Then she tucked her face into his throat and closed her eyes before melting against him completely.

The words of the song gradually seeped into Ziva's consciousness.

_A moment like this...  
>Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this.<br>Some people search forever for that one special kiss.  
>I can't believe its happening to me.<br>Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this._

The words couldn't have summed up her feelings more accurately. She really was falling hard and fast in this relationship and she spared a thought to hope she wasn't alone in that. If she'd have glanced up at his face just then, she'd have known for sure that she wasn't.

Abby, Kate, Ducky and Fornell had left the dance floor when this song started and were leaning against the bar waiting on refills. To a person, they couldn't take their eyes off Gibbs and Ziva.

"Wow," Abby breathed succinctly but almost reverently.

"Wow indeed, Abby," Kate responded. "And I couldn't be happier for him."

"Here, here," Ducky put in, raising his newly-refilled glass in accord.

"You know," Fornell drawled. "I swore I'd never date another one of his exes, but I'd make an exception for her."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up on that, if I were you," Abby responded knowingly. "They're, like, perfect together."

"I must agree, Abigail," Ducky weighed in. "My impression is that Jethro won't be letting go of this one, not if he has anything to say about it."

Out on the dance floor, Gibbs and Ziva continued to sway together, oblivious to the fact that they were the subject of conversation. In fact, they might have been the only two people in the room for all the attention they paid to their surroundings. Gibbs adroitly shuffled them around the floor until he had her at the far edge near the wall so all anyone would see looking at them would be his back.

His hands started to wander again a bit and he bent his head to nuzzle hers. She rubbed herself against him subtly in pleasure and encouragement, trying to get even closer. One of his hands slid lower to skim over her ass and trail along her thigh near the hem of her dress. A mew of pleasure left her throat.

"All week," he began in a husky murmur just loud enough for her to hear, "been thinking about touching you again … kissing more of you …" His tongue traced her ear. "And after you called today, moving inside you …"

_Oh my God. _She gasped and felt a gush of wetness dampen her panties. She could also feel his shaft hardening further against her lower belly. She lifted her eyelids just enough to look at him, the hunger burning in her whiskey-brown eyes mirrored in his blue ones.

"Jethro …" was all she could manage in response, but her face and body communicated the rest of what his words were doing to her.

He wanted to kiss her again, but was afraid if he did, he wouldn't stop. He pressed his lips to her forehead instead as he brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head, then protectively tucked her back in under his chin again. They held each other so close for the rest of the dance that not even a whisper could have passed through.

_Everything changes but beauty remains  
>Something so tender, I can't explain<br>Well, I may be dreaming but till I awake  
>Can't we make this dream last forever<br>And I'll cherish all the love we share_

_A moment like this…_  
><em>Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this<em>  
><em>Some people search forever for that one special kiss<em>  
><em>Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me<em>  
><em>Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this<em>

When the song came to an end, she put her lips close to his ear and breathed, "Perhaps it is time to go - ?"

"Was hoping you'd feel that way," he nearly groaned, gratitude coloring his tone.

With a knowing smile, she laced her fingers with his once more and led the way back to the table where the others had gathered again. Ziva gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it to remove her jacket from the back of her chair and lay it over her arm.

Gibbs stood at her back, his hands resting on her shoulders.

He announced, "Headin' out."

"But the night's still young, Boss," Tony started to object. He abruptly shut up as Kate kicked him sharply in the shin and Abby narrowed her eyes at him in her own rendition of a visual head slap.

"Glad you two could make it," Kate said brightly, looking toward Gibbs and Ziva.

Ziva smiled at the group. "It was a pleasure meeting all of you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your celebration, Agent Fornell."

There was a chorus of goodbyes, then the couple left with Gibbs' hand resting low on Ziva's back, guiding her possessively. Every eye at the table followed them, mesmerized. The FBI agent was the first to break the silence.

"Figures," Fornell snorted. "It's my birthday and he gets the best present. Lucky bastard."

* * *

><p><em>AN: The song is "A Moment Like This" sung by Kelly Clarkson. THANKS and a hug to my dear friend Cherokee Jedi for sending me the new avatar - Gibbs in all black. ^_^ Oh, and the next chapter is exactly what some of you are hopng it will be. =) Thanks for reading! _


	9. Caught Up In The Rush

They'd no sooner made it out the door of the bar when Gibbs suddenly found himself pushed up against the side of the building, Ziva's mouth attacking his hungrily, her hands moving up to hold his face exactly where she wanted it. He responded immediately, his hands gripping her hips to pull her even closer. They were both breathing hard by the time she let him up for air.

"That was for getting me all hot on the dance floor," she explained in a throaty voice, her eyes roaming over that dreamy face of his.

"Well. Have to do _that_ again," he smirked, taking her mouth once more in a deep, heated kiss.

The sound of a car door slamming in the parking lot pulled them back to awareness of their surroundings.

Ziva leaned back a little and grinned. "Race you to the truck," she challenged unexpectedly and took off like a shot.

Gibbs gave a bark of laughter, then followed close behind. His legs were longer, but she had enough of a head start that she beat him by a few seconds. She was leaning up against his driver's side door in a relaxed pose with her arms crossed when he reached her.

"I won," she taunted with a sexy twinkle in her eyes and a curve to her mouth.

He crowded into her, trapping her between the hard surfaces of his truck and his body.

"Funny – this doesn't feel like losing," he murmured, nuzzling her throat.

She moaned and angled her neck to give him better access. He was happy to take her up on the silent invitation to continue, his tongue coming out to taste her, his lips sucking at her skin.

"Perhaps we both win," she said breathlessly.

"Works for me," he agreed in a gravelly tone that sent delicious shivers skittering down her spine.

Sliding her arms up and around his neck, she pulled his mouth back to hers for a kiss that was slow and deep and full of emotion. When the need for oxygen raised a flag, they separated just far enough apart to breathe.

"Let's go home, Jethro," Ziva whispered.

After another soft, clinging kiss because he just couldn't resist, he reached around to open his door for her. She slid over to what had become "her" spot in the middle of the bench seat and he climbed in after her. She rested a hand on his thigh and her head against his shoulder. As he drove, he raised her fingers to his mouth for a kiss before returning it to his thigh, his fingers intertwining with hers.

The ride home was filled with stolen kisses and sexy whispers. At one point he requested quietly, "How about you go ahead and check in with Tali and then turn your phone off?"

Ziva appreciated that he knew she might want to check on Tali given that the younger woman was managing the shop alone for the first time. She treasured just as much his unspoken message that he wanted to be with her with no interruptions this time. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then pulled her phone out of her small purse. She was surprised to see that a text had come in a little earlier from her sister; she must not have heard the alert sound with the noise at the bar.

She opened it up immediately and couldn't help but snort out a chuckle. He glanced down at her quizzically.

"Tali beat me to it," she advised him before reading the message out loud, translating the text-speak. "'Stop worrying. Everything's fine. Turn off your phone and have fun.'"

He grinned, then asked, "Are you gonna call her?"

Ziva shook her head.

"I am going to turn off my phone," she announced, doing just that and putting it away. She then reached up and scraped her teeth over his earlobe before adding in a sultry voice, "And have fun."

An almost guttural sound left his throat.

"What about your phone?" she murmured against his neck.

"Been off since I got to your place," he revealed. She looked at him with some surprise. "Not on call and the only person I want to talk to is right beside me – and will be all night."

The heat in his eyes made her heart thump and warmth coil low in her belly.

It wasn't long before they were pulling into his driveway and climbing out of the truck. He grabbed her bag from behind the seat and they walked into his house with her arm around his waist and his around her shoulders.

He dropped her bag softly to the floor and she tossed her jacket and purse in that general direction. The door was barely closed and locked before they reached for each other.

"Want you," he muttered urgently against her mouth.

"Then this is your lucky night," she answered provocatively, her lips moving to glide softly over his cheek, along his chiseled jaw before she looked into his eyes with a passionate gaze that took his breath away. "Because you can have me."

He groaned and boosted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist. He started up the stairs toward his bed, kissing her almost desperately. At the landing where the stairs turned, he needed to feel more of her – and needed to steady himself for a minute. Gibbs pressed her up against the wall hard, loving the feel of her against him.

He kissed her like he'd never stop, then slid his mouth to her throat as her hands rubbed over his neck, her fingers through his hair.

"Everything okay?" she panted.

He smirked, running his hands over her bottom, her lower back, under her thighs. "Never better. Just all my blood seems to be rushing to the same place and it's not my legs."

Her delighted, flirtatious amusement danced on the air between them. She rubbed the front bone of her pelvis up and down his hard shaft that was pressed against her center.

"I think I found it," she enlightened him, the humor in her voice melting into powerful need. Her voice was breathless and sexy as hell.

He managed a laugh that was nearly a groan, pulling an answering one from her.

He laid his forehead against hers, willing himself to slow down. Her fingers slid down to flex against his chest, a slight smile still on her face and wonder in her eyes.

"Do you know one of the things I love most about being with you?" she whispered, her fingers rubbing over his delectable chest, then sliding up to spear into his hair again as her mouth nipped at the smile on his.

"Tell me," he invited indulgently, bracing her more firmly against the wall with his body so his hands were free to wander over her.

"How much we laugh," she revealed softly as she looked into his eyes, the desire in her expression colored with deep affection. "That is new for me."

He smiled gently, one hand coming up to cup her face.

"That's a new one for me, too," he admitted. The kiss he pressed to her mouth told her he wouldn't change it for anything.

His lips then skimmed over the curve of her jaw to her throat, taking the heat up a notch again by adding his teeth, his tongue. She mewed with pleasure.

"Want to know something I love about being with you?" he asked in a throaty murmur against her skin.

"Yes," she sighed, tilting her head in silent encouragement for his talented mouth to continue exactly what it was doing.

"The way I get hard just thinking about you."

Her breath caught at his husky comment and he could actually feel the flood of heat and moisture between her legs though her panties, through his pants.

"Oh, _God_, yes – there is that," she gasped in agreement, pushing her pelvis into him again.

Ziva pulled his mouth down to hers for a deep, hungry kiss.

"Think your legs can get us to the bed yet?" she asked in a voice stark with need as her mouth wandered across his cheek. "You can put me down if you need to."

"Don't need to," he growled, gently biting her neck. "Don't want to."

Sliding his hands back under her bottom to get a better grasp again, he stood up away from the wall.

As she once more tightened her arms like silken cords around his neck and captured his lips with hers, he carried her easily the rest of the way into his bedroom.

He kicked the door shut behind them in some unconscious move to add another layer of protection to that which was precious to him – her. He stood her by the bed and bent to turn on the bedside lamp as she toed off her shoes. He then flipped the covers back with a smooth movement of his wrist.

His eyes glittered with passion as he watched her remove her necklace and earrings and place them on his nightstand. He did the same with his watch, not wanting to scratch her soft skin.

He turned back to her and cupped her face in his hands, his eyes roaming over her gorgeous features.

"Wanna see you," he murmured as explanation for the light.

A siren's smile curved her lips as she placed her hands under his jacket near his shoulders and he allowed her to push it down his arms and off.

"I want to see you, too," she answered in a low voice, running her hands appreciatively over the black shirt that still covered his chest and looked so incredibly sexy on him. "I also want you to wear this for me again. Will you?"

"If you want," he mumbled against her throat.

"I want," she whispered, rubbing her cheek against the side of his head just because she could.

He undid the buttons that closed his sleeves as she pulled the shirt free from his pants and slid her hands under, eager to feel his skin. They both made sounds of pleasure and he kissed her like there was nothing else on earth he'd rather be doing. As her nimble fingers began to unbutton the front of his shirt, his found the zipper at the back of her dress and slowly eased it down.

After Ziva had unfastened the last button, she pushed his shirt off to join his jacket unheeded on the floor.

"Mmmmm … very, very nice, Special Agent Gibbs," she hummed admiringly, running her fingers over his toned, muscled chest and through the salt and pepper hair she found there.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his chest. The feel of her kisses there made him groan and when her tongue flicked over a hardened nipple he practically growled.

His fingers had been lightly stroking up and down her spine. Now his hands splayed flat and he pressed her closer.

"Birth control?" he husked out before he was too far gone to remember.

She was moved that he hadn't just assumed she had that taken care of, even though she did.

"I get birth control shots," she told him, looking into his eyes. "That works for me unless you know of a reason we should also use something else."

He shook his head. "No reason."

"Good," she breathed into his ear, "because I want to feel you come inside me."

He groaned and nearly came right then and there. He practically swallowed her whole in a hot, deep kiss that communicated how much he craved her, how much he wanted that, too.

Her hands went to work on unbuckling his belt and releasing the button on his pants as he kicked off his shoes. He pulled away just far enough to watch as he pushed her loosened dress off her shoulders and down her arms. As more of her was revealed to him, his grip on his control seriously slipped.

Ziva wore a demi cup bra with scalloped edges that made the most of her cleavage. The cups were made of a jewel-toned peach satin with a lighter peach lace overlay. The lace continued as the band around her back while thin satin straps went from the outside edge of the cup up and over her shoulders. The cups formed a deep V in the middle with a triangle of lace connecting them.

As he pushed the dress easily over her slim hips he discovered matching lace-trimmed panties. The same rich peach satin formed the underwear, while the lace overlay continued along the top and formed the thin sides that pulled slightly up on her hips in a subtle V shape that pointed his eye toward her center.

He swallowed hard and reached out slightly trembling fingers to gently trace over the lace on her panties.

"You like?" she whispered provocatively in his ear, dipping her hands inside his pants to squeeze his ass before snaking a hand around front to cup his impressive erection through his underwear.

Robbed of his voice, he could only nod. The longing she could read on his face was extremely gratifying.

"I am glad," she murmured, catching his earlobe between her teeth and tugging gently before soothing it with her tongue. "Because I bought them this week just for you."

The possessive side of him roared with satisfaction at the thought that no one else had seen her in these sexy undergarments. It was all he could do not to toss her onto his bed and ravish her in the spot, but he was determined to make this first time last as long as possible, not wanting either of them to miss a single sensation.

He might not be able to recover quite as quickly as he had in his younger days, but one blessing of maturity was that he had developed some measure of control. However, this woman was pushing that to its limits.

He settled for tangling one hand in her long silky hair and tugging her head back to claim her mouth, while his other hand slid from her panties up the slim curve of her waist to cup her lace-covered breast. He felt her gasp even as she kissed him back with all the fervor that was raging inside her.

Ziva began pushing his pants and underwear down with the goal of getting them off him. Despite her sensual, gentle touch, the friction against his swollen member was almost too much for him and he sucked in an audible breath. She stopped and her eyes flew to his, a little worried she'd done something wrong.

He pressed a gentle and reassuring kiss to her lips.

"Better let me do that tonight," he said ruefully.

She got the message and smiled, smoothing her hands up to his waist.

"You could do something else for me," he murmured, nibbling on her jaw.

"Anything," she breathed, sucking on that spot where his shoulder met his neck before her tongue snaked out to trace a swirling pattern over it.

He bit back a groan, but was unable to stop the further hardening of his body.

"Lay down," he requested in a husky voice. "I want to be able to picture you exactly like this –" he smoothed his hands over her breasts and down to run along her panties and around to cup her ass – "in my bed."

"Promise you will join me soon?" she asked enticingly, pressing kisses all the way up his neck.

"Count on it," he managed, his hands reflexively tightening his grip for a second.

With a sultry smile and a kiss to his mouth which included scraping her teeth along his bottom lip, she did as he asked. She lay back on the sheets, her arms curved loosely up around her head, her hair spread out around her. She knew it was a sexy pose and she did it on purpose. The effect was just as she'd hoped.

His eyes blazed even hotter as they slowly devoured her from her long, brunette locks to her painted toenails. While he imagined that she would look incredibly hot in any color, he couldn't think of anything more arousing in that moment than that rich shade of peach against her dusky skin and dark hair. She could actually see the pulse at the base of his throat pounding, which thrilled her to no end.

He gingerly but quickly shed the rest of his clothes, baring himself to her gaze. He was scarcely aware of his nakedness, still fully occupied with the vision of loveliness before him.

Ziva, however, was captivated by the sight of him. She lifted up on her elbows to better see him, thrusting her breasts at him even more alluringly.

His heart wasn't the only one pounding. He was a strikingly handsome man fully clothed. Naked he was breathtaking and she marveled to think that tonight he was all hers.

"Come here," she husked. He didn't need a second invitation.

Putting a knee on the bed between her legs, he braced himself over her. The contrast in their sizes was scintillating for both of them. Her hand settled at his waist, then slowly glided up his chest and around to cup the back of his neck. She pulled him down for a kiss, her tongue delving for his, as her other arm wrapped around to hold onto his long, sexy back. Slowly he sank down onto her, causing them both to moan with pleasure.

"You feel incredible," he whispered, pressing kisses from her mouth to her throat.

"So do you," she gasped stretching her neck, silently begging him to continue. He was happy to oblige.

After a few moments, he slid a little to her side and rose up on one elbow. She never stopped touching him as his eyes traced a path that his other hand followed, wandering worshipfully from her shoulder, across her breasts, down her torso, along the curve of her hip … teasing her center with a tantalizingly light touch … smoothing down her leg.

He finally looked back into her face, more than a little awe in his gaze.

"What?" she asked, a gentle smile on her lips.

"At the risk of bringing you to your senses, what is a smart, gorgeous woman like you doing with an old man like me?" He really didn't get it on some level, though he felt more connected to her than he'd felt to anyone in what seemed like a lifetime.

She glowed at his description of her, even as her heart melted further at the hint of that vulnerable side he allowed her to see every now and then. As much as neither of them was inclined to be overly talkative, sometimes there was no substitute for words in making something clear.

"I am glad you think I am those things," she responded quietly, a curve to her lips that shared just how miraculous all this felt to her, as well, "but you are selling yourself far too short."

Her hand squeezed his shoulder, then slid down to his chest, coming to rest over his racing heart – a heart that was pounding for her.

"It is impossible to put into words just how attracted to you I am," she told him in a voice husky with emotion. "You are strong, intelligent, fun," - he raised his brows at that, but she ignored his disbelief – "and, without a doubt, the most 'ruggedly handsome' man I have ever met." They both grinned as his joking descriptor of choice from last Sunday rolled off her tongue.

"I love the way I feel when I am with you," she continued softly, raising her fingertips to trace his features lightly, "and I like the way I feel about me when I see myself through your eyes." Her gaze steady on his brilliant blue one, she assured him, "I am with you, Jethro, because I have no desire to be anywhere else."

She pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. Then she remembered the second half of his query and pulled back far enough to narrow her eyes at him in a mock glare.

"And, for the record, you are _not_ old and I do not want to hear that again. Got that?" she growled playfully.

His eyes smiled first, then his lips caught up. "Got it."

Her look changed back to one of tenderness, then her eyes darkened with the passion that had sizzled between them from the moment they met.

Cradling his face in her hands, Ziva urged him closer. She shifted sensuously against him, delighting in the fabulous feeling of his naked body against her scantily-clad one. It was time for more than words and she let him know it in a smoky whisper.

"Make love with me, Jethro."

Their mouths came together softly at first … moving … savoring … then tangling deeply. Hands roamed and caressed and squeezed, learning what thrilled the other into a gasp, a moan.

His lips brushed down her throat to the tops of her breasts which were pushed up to their best advantage by the design of her bra. After he'd kissed his way across both, his tongue slipped under a satin cup to find her hardened nipple. Her hips lifted in need as her breath caught in her chest.

Jethro's hands slid under her back and she arched so he could unfasten the hooks hidden in the peach-colored lace. Slowly he peeled the sexy covering away revealing her lovely, well-formed breasts with their dark nipples begging for more of his mouth, his tongue. He didn't disappoint. That sound he loved kept leaving her throat as she relished the feelings cascading through her body.

Ziva pushed insistently at his shoulders until Gibbs rolled onto his back. She followed immediately, one leg sliding between his, her hands and mouth exploring his magnificent chest. Now it was his turn to communicate his pleasure, loving the feel of her touching him, the brush of her silky hair against his skin.

One of her hands slid slowly down his chest, explored his tight stomach, lightly skimmed his erection on her way to gripping his thigh, testing the strength of his muscle. She grinned against his skin as he held his breath and thrust his hips at her, silently begging for more.

"So now it is all right to touch you, hmmm?" she teased, fingers roaming everywhere but exactly where he wanted them.

"God, yes," he bit out, one of his hands tangling in her hair and the other searching out one of her breasts. "_Please, _Ziva_._"

She happily complied, stroking his hard shaft with her hand, memorizing the feel of him. Her thumb rubbed across the tip, sensually spreading the bead of cum she found there, taking pleasure herself in the touching, in the sounds he made in response. She kissed her way back up to his mouth, cradling his swollen cock against her belly, against the silk of her panties that he had yet to remove.

Their mouths met in a hot, yearning kiss and he flipped her onto her back. After devouring her breasts again, pleasuring them both, his mouth continued a path toward her center, his tongue dipping into her navel on the way as he cupped her sex through the silk underwear. They both moaned.

"So wet for me,"' he mumbled against her skin, feeling her dampness through the silk.

"I have been wet for you most of the night," she admitted breathlessly, her fingers sliding into his hair.

His hand delved beneath her panties, groaning as he encountered her tight curls and undeniable proof of her desire for him. He couldn't resist rubbing her, parting her folds with a fingertip, easing a long finger inside her. The noise she made this time was loud and told him that he was making her wild with need. He slowly pulled his hand out, spreading her moisture over her as he went. When he rubbed her clit with his dampened fingers, her hips came off the bed with a strangled cry from deep within her.

Gibbs slid a little further down her body so he could nuzzle his nose against her center through the silk, the scent of her driving him crazy. His tongue ran beneath the band of her underwear which forced more of those sexy mewing gasps from her throat.

He rose up between her legs and she opened her eyes about half-way, already missing the contact of his skin against hers. He snagged her gaze as he tugged at her underwear. She raised her knees, planted her feet on either side of him and lifted her hips to make it easier for him to remove the silky peach confection.

After crushing them gently in his fist to savor the feel of them, he tossed them over the side of the bed to join the rest of their clothing. His eyes traveled slowly down for his first view of the most secret part of her. He froze for a second, in awe of her beauty and the fact that she trusted him like this, opened herself to him.

"Jethro?" she whispered, just a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

His hands caressed her belly, then moved to the inside of her thighs, between her legs. Mesmerized, he shared, "Every inch of you is so beautiful, I can hardly breathe." The reverence in his tone thrilled her.

She relaxed with a small smile, then held out her arms to him. Leaving one hand to play between her thighs, he came down to her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and drew him in for a kiss. It began sweet and loving and sensual, but it didn't take long before their hunger blazed hot and out of control again.

He pulled back and looked deeply into her big whiskey-brown eyes. "Wanna taste you," he breathed. "Now, just you." He brought his face closer to her lips, brushing hers with his as he spoke again. "Then I want to taste you again later when you'll taste like both of us."

More of her inner juices flooded his hand as she reacted to perhaps the most erotic thing that had ever been said to her. Her hips thrust against his hand and an eager sound whimpered in her throat.

"Yes…" _God, yes. _"… and yes," she assented in a hoarse whisper_._ Then she captured his lips in a series of kisses that went deep and hard and fast, unable to get enough of him.

When she finally released his mouth, he slowly kissed and sucked his way down to the very center of her. The tip of his tongue traced her slit, getting his first taste of her and once again drawing that sound he craved from her. A long, slow lick followed, causing Ziva to gasp his name and arch off the bed. He grinned inwardly because he was just getting started.

He settled in to feast on her, the urge to know every part of her overshadowing his need to bury himself as deeply inside her as he could, at least for the moment. His tongue stroked, tasted, speared inside her. When he flicked over her sensitive clit, she nearly screamed; when he tugged the swollen bud into his mouth to gently suck on it, she did.

She flung one of her hands above her head to grab the edge of the mattress, while she gripped his head like a lifeline with the other as her hips thrust uncontrollably into his mouth.

"Jethro," she whimpered, crazy with need.

"Right here," he assured her in a gravelly tone that practically vibrated through her.

"This first time, I want you inside me when I come," she gasped haltingly.

"Mmmm…" he agreed without a pause in his actions.

She tugged at him insistently. "Jethro…" He finally looked up at her and the feel of his breath over her sensitized skin nearly sent her over the edge. "That is going to be very soon," she panted pointedly.

He grinned as he nuzzled her once more, then with a last long velvety lick and a swirl of his tongue that made her moan yet again, he rose over her.

Reaching down, he fitted himself to her entrance and then braced both arms on either side of her. They wore identical expressions filled with intimacy, affection and the sheer joy of just being together in this moment.

Her hands rubbed through the attractive hair covering his chest before smoothing up to grasp his shoulders. Losing themselves in the passion arcing between them, they looked into each other's eyes, never breaking the contact until he was buried inside her, completely encased by her slick heat. At that point, she closed her eyes to absorb every ounce of sensation she could.

He paused to let her adjust to him, resting his forehead on hers, his arms still stiffened to hold some of his weight off her.

"Mmmmmm…" she sighed out in a throaty murmur, tilting her pelvis into his and clenching him with her inner muscles. "There you are."

Her words, her tone, her actions were nearly his undoing, but she was so petite and tight that he was a little concerned about being too big, too heavy for her.

"You okay?" he husked.

Ziva let out a breathless, sexy laugh and opened her eyes to find his brilliant blue ones. She ran her hands up and down his spine, urging him down onto her.

"It is safe to say that I have never been more okay in my life," she assured him, managing to get the words out despite her labored breathing and racing heart.

They shared a look, a smile that said this was so much more than sex, then their mouths came together again to further complete their connection.

He began to move deep within her and she wrapped her legs around him, holding tight and urging him on. Given that their foreplay had begun hours ago over the phone before he even picked her up for their date, their passion soon spiraled out of control. Faster and faster their hips met, pressure building and building and building until Ziva arched high and called out his name desperately as the most powerful orgasm of her life claimed her. He watched her come until he couldn't hold back any more and then he followed her over with a hoarse cry, his body going rigid as he filled her with the very essence of him.

After he was spent, he melted completely against her, burying his face in her neck. His sigh of utter contentment elated her. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, never wanting to let him go. After she caught her breath and before she could blurt out something impulsive like asking how he felt about an outdoor wedding, she opted for light humor in an attempt to get her reeling emotions under control.

"Well," she observed in a winded voice, "that was certainly worth breaking the eight-date rule for."

She could feel his heart pounding against hers and the chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

"I'll say," he agreed with great feeling.

Then, tilting his head back to look up at her with nothing but truth in his gaze, he added softly, "But I'd have waited for you, ya know."

Another piece of her heart simply melted. With a hand cupping the back of his head, she cradled him back into her, angling her head to press a lingering kiss to his forehead.

"I know," she whispered against him, blinking back tears of emotion that stung her eyes.

For the longest time they lay exactly like that, her hands sweeping gently over his body, through his hair. Occasional sweet murmurs broke the silence in the room.

Eventually he rolled over, pulling her with him to snuggle into his side, one of her legs resting between his and her head lying on his chest as she wrapped her left arm around his middle.

"Mmmm…" she hummed, rubbing her cheek against him. "I like this spot."

"Like having you there," he confessed, his left hand curling up to hold her head against him while his right hand pressed against the small of her back, his thumb stroking gently over her skin.

They sprawled against each other, alternating talking with silently holding one another just for the pure pleasure of it. Gradually, as their mouths and fingers brushed ... stroked … glided, their mutual desire flared once more, driving them to make love again. This time was slower than before … almost languid, flowing, not missing an inch of each other's bodies. True to his word, his mouth eventually moved between her thighs and he was enthralled by the blended taste of the two of them. He licked and tasted until she came with a breathless gasp, only to come again when he plunged into her soon after.

After he'd sufficiently recovered from his second mind-blowing orgasm of the night, he reached up to turn out the light. She was curled into his side again already half asleep, using his chest as a pillow, her hair flowing sensually over him. He couldn't remember when he'd felt this satiated, this content … had he honestly ever been? For just a moment, he wondered how she'd react if he confessed he never wanted to let go of her. Then, wrapping his arms protectively around her, he allowed sleep to claim him, as well.


	10. Coming Awake

The next morning Ziva came slowly awake, floating on a cloud of contentment that was completely new to her. The delicious pressure of a warm, definitely male body pressed up against her back coupled with an arm flung across her middle and a leg trapping hers immediately brought memories of last night to her mind. She couldn't help the smile that graced her lips as she thought _Mmmm … Jethro_.

She wasn't sure of the time, but it was light out and her body clock was used to waking early; after all, she was normally at the shop by 5 a.m. She made most of the food and baked goods she served at _Brewed Awakenings_ and that took time. Plus, she always had at least four different flavors of coffee going and she bought whole beans to grind herself. Again, that added time to the process, but she thought the dark, rich brews tasted better that way. However, Tali would be opening the shop this morning, she remembered with great satisfaction, and snuggled into Jethro and her pillow.

Sometime in the night she must have turned over, as she distinctly remembered falling asleep on that magnificent chest of his. But, apparently, he had followed her, half-covering her body with his. She didn't even open her eyes, perfectly willing to never move from this spot.

Until her bladder insisted she move at least as far as the bathroom. Sigh.

Moving gingerly, she tried to slip from the bed without waking Jethro. As soon as she started to move though, his arm tightened around her and he rubbed his face in her hair, nuzzling into the back of her neck. He made a noise that could only be described as a grunt that clearly translated into, "Where do you think you're going?"

She smiled and rubbed his forearm soothingly. "Bathroom," she whispered. "I will be right back."

Though he wasn't really awake yet, that relaxed him enough that he allowed her from the bed. She could see a bathroom connected to his room and she stepped in there. She quickly did her business and couldn't help but marvel slightly at the woman in the mirror as she washed up a bit - a woman who looked distinctly well-loved. Then she caught sight of her hair and grimaced. Realizing her bag was still downstairs near the door, she smoothed it with her fingers as best she could and then returned to Jethro.

She slid back into the bed, rolling up against him on her side, facing him. He immediately curled his arm around her again and relaxed into her, as though he'd just been waiting for her to get back. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek against his chest, closing her eyes but not actually falling back to sleep.

Soon after, he stirred, one hand coming up to press his fingers into his eyes as he came awake. His first thought was that there was a warm, soft woman in his bed. That realization was immediately followed by the satisfaction of knowing it wasn't just any woman; it was Ziva. His face softened and his lips curved faintly even before he slowly blinked opened his eyes to look down at her. He found sparkling whiskey-brown eyes looking up at him affectionately.

"Good morning," she said softly.

He turned more on his side so he could see her better, which rolled her a little onto her back. He ran a hand over her hip.

"Sure is that," he agreed in a sexy murmur and bent his mouth to hers.

After a thoroughly enjoyable kiss, he raised his head. "Don't move," he ordered. "Be right back." He dropped a kiss to her nose and headed to the bathroom himself. She watched his handsome naked form unabashedly, looking forward to the return view as she relaxed back into the pillows.

She didn't have long to wait and watched him with great pleasure as he rejoined her in bed. He cocked an eyebrow at her as he caught her staring.

"I love looking at you," she admitted softly, snuggling back up against him and running a hand appreciatively over his chest and trim stomach. He wryly noted to himself that it wasn't as toned as it used to be, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You are incredibly handsome and sexy," she added, nuzzling into him and kissing her way from his chest to his throat.

He speared his fingers into her hair and tugged her mouth up to his. "You're the sexy one in this bed," he disagreed, then proceeded to distract her with a kiss that curled her toes.

When she could form a coherent thought again, her mind went back to that exchange. She rolled on top of him and braced herself with her arms on either side of his head.

"Why do you keep brushing off the compliments I give you, like you do not believe them?" she asked, looking him in the eye. Her voice was warm, not judgmental in the least.

He shrugged, telling her more in that gesture than he realized.

"You know, Jethro," she began almost conversationally, that affectionate gleam back in her eyes. "I am quite certain there have been at least a few women in your life and four of them married you. You clearly have something going for you."

"You don't see any of them still around, do you?" he pointed out dryly. A brief shadow crossed his eyes that told her who shouldered the responsibility for that.

Her expression softened. Cupping his jaw in one hand as she smoothed her thumb over his cheek, she pointed out oh-so-gently, "The first was not by choice – not hers and not yours."

Then her voice took on a matter-of-fact tone that negated any wallowing in the past.

"And as for the others," she continued, "the reason that none of those worked out is perfectly clear."

He looked at her quizzically, but kept his eyes carefully neutral. _Surely she hadn't figured that out already, too?_

"Oh?" he asked while raising his brows.

She nodded.

"You were supposed to be available when you met me," she informed him, an impish yet suggestive expression glistening in her brown eyes.

The slight tension that had gathered within him eased and his characteristic half-smile tugged at his mouth.

"Good point," he congratulated her, rubbing his hands up and down her back to press her closer. "Lucky I have you to figure these things out for me."

"And don't you forget it," she ordered playfully.

As she looked down at him with happiness sparkling in those brown eyes he could look into all day, her body nudged her from feeling mischievous to aroused.

She reached down to capture his lower lip between her teeth. After tugging gently, she soothed it with her tongue.

"And now I think _I _will have _you_," she informed him in a throaty murmur against his mouth before skimming her lips over his jaw and moving down to bite and suck on his neck. "Unless you have some objection?"

He shook his head.

"Count me in," he replied somewhat breathlessly, then immediately became distracted from talking as his hands smoothed their way from her slim waist to her breasts. He found them far more interesting than conversation. As he caressed her, she arched back and made that mewing gasp that instantly made him harder.

He dipped his head and tongued first one nipple, then the other, relishing the way they puckered for him, the moans she couldn't hold back. As he continued licking and sucking on her breasts, she rubbed her center against his. Loving what he was doing yet wanting more of him, Ziva pulled his mouth to hers for a deep kiss, then started sliding down his body.

She moved her mouth down his throat, her tongue coming out to lick the length of it slowly, once, twice. She traveled across his chest until she had paid proper attention to each of his nipples. It was his turn to moan, but she had much more in store for him. Torturously slowly she continued kissing and licking her way down to his stomach and beyond to his hardening shaft. He couldn't help the almost subtle lift of his hips toward her mouth, and she grinned inwardly even as she made him wait until she had kissed her way along each of his inner thighs and followed that up with a light scraping of her nails. Her hair danced against his sensitive flesh, further inflaming him. The sounds he made thrilled her and enticed her into driving him to make more.

Just as he was about to start seriously begging, she slowly licked his cock from the base to the tip, swirling around his thickening head. She took him into her mouth and he thought his heart might stop – his breathing certainly did. She went about halfway, then slowly pulled back up, scraping him lightly with her teeth. Her name left his mouth in a strangled voice, which satisfied her to no end. She snaked her tongue around him while she also caressed him with her hand. Then her tongue licked all the way down to his balls, and she drew first one, then the other into her mouth. He grabbed for control, but couldn't keep from fisting his hands in her hair or from thrusting his hips at her, silently pleading.

Her hand stroked him sensuously as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth. After a last teasing nuzzle between his thighs, she slowly traced the very tip of her tongue up his shaft, then engulfed him until her nose her was pressed against his pubic hair and her throat was working his cock.

"Ohmygod," he mumbled, closing his eyes and luxuriating in the sensation. She continued to suck on him, indulging herself as well. She knew it wouldn't be long before she needed to take him inside her, but she loved the way she was obviously driving him crazy.

Gibbs opened his eyes to look down at her and his fingers shifted in her hair to hold it back from her face so he could see better. He knew the incredibly erotic visual of her going down on him was seared into his brain forever.

Ziva could taste more of his precum leaking uncontrollably from the tip of his swollen member and knew it was time.

Slowly she pulled her mouth from his cock, holding it in her hand, squeezing him gently. She looked up at him, her eyes molten with desire. His glittered like hard sapphires.

"Ziva," he entreated, desperation in his voice.

A small but seductive smile curved her lips as she silently rose above him, lining the hard length of him up at her wet entrance.

"Yes, Jethro?" she drawled, rubbing the tip of him back and forth across her moist slit.

God, the sight of her naked and astride him, caressing his sensitive member so provocatively, had to be the sexiest image he'd ever seen in his life.

"Need you," he gasped, not sure how much more foreplay he could endure.

"I need you, too," she murmured in a sultry tone. Her whiskey-brown eyes darkened even further with desire. "And now, I am going to take you."

Their eyes locked, she dropped down on him, taking him within her to the hilt in one fell swoop. A guttural noise left his throat and Ziva's head fell back, her mouth opening in a silent gasp.

Jethro rose up and wrapped his arms around her, his mouth finding her throat, her breasts. Her hips made a little movement that drove him wild, as her inner walls gripped him as tightly as possible.

The moment was beyond hot, but a wave of tenderness washed over her, as well, as she held him to her. Slowly, her head came forward to nuzzle against his and he lifted his face to hers. She smiled at him lovingly, smoothing her hands from his shoulders, up his neck, to cup his face.

"I love the feel of you inside me," she whispered, brushing her lips across his.

"Love being there," he husked.

Her smile took on a timeless quality and she kissed him in earnest, first slow and dripping with emotion, then voraciously as the desire flared hotter between them again.

She pushed at his shoulders until he lay back and she braced herself over him. Capturing his gaze with hers, she started to move on him. His hands gripped her hips even as his lifted to meet hers. She bent and kissed him again, hungry, breath-stealing kisses that forced every thought from his head. He could only feel, lost in the sensations of sliding back and forth inside her slick heat and of the sexy tangling of their tongues.

She rode him hard and fast and just a little bit wild, aided by his hands that had slid to her thighs. For endless, delicious moments they moved together, building toward a mutual release.

"Are you close?" she managed to pant. "I want you to come with me."

"Now," he demanded almost harshly, reaching down where their bodies met to press his thumb against her sensitive bud.

Neither of them was quiet as they did indeed find their climax together. They held each other, suspended in time, as they moved their hips just a little again and again, slowly, sensually, riding out the aftershocks of their mutual orgasm.

Finally, Ziva collapsed down on top of Jethro's chest, breathing heavily. He could feel her lips curve against his neck as a joyful noise, almost a winded laugh, left her throat. He squeezed his arms more tightly around her, a ghost of a smile on his own mouth.

"Mmmm," she purred, feeling happy and completely satisfied. "We really need to wake up like that again soon."

"I'll say," he agreed, dropping a kiss to her head. "How's tomorrow looking for you?"

She chuckled indulgently against his skin. Tomorrow was looking like work – early work - but it was a nice thought. A really, really nice, amazingly wonderful thought.

They lay together letting their galloping hearts slow down, reluctant to part.

"I suppose at some point we need to get up," Ziva eventually mumbled into his throat almost idly, though she was not inclined to move an inch at the moment.

He cocked a brow and looked down at her in devilish surprise. "You mean you had something in mind for today other than staying in bed?"

She grinned and tilted her head back so she could see into his face. "Staying in bed works, too," she told him. "You just strike me as a man who is not accustomed to lying around doing nothing."

That wicked gleam in his eyes took on a decidedly predatory look. Bending his head to nip at her neck and all the way up to her ear, he growled, "What makes you think we'd be doing nothing?"

She laughed delightedly and raised her head to gaze down at him. He held her hair back from her face so he could see her. She loved the twinkle that was back in his brilliant blue eyes, that one that made her weak in the knees.

"Well, at the very least, we will need coffee at some point – especially you," she pointed out knowingly while rubbing her nose against his. "And we should probably have food sometime, just to keep up our strength." She smirked at him and he couldn't help but chuckle in response.

"I could make breakfast," she offered, dropping a brief kiss to his mouth.

"Um, yeah … about that," he began sheepishly, his voice trailing off.

"Let me guess," she said when he didn't continue, "you are one of those bachelors who does not keep much in the way of groceries on hand."

If possible, he looked even more discomfited, then defended himself by pointing out that he hadn't had time to go to the store _and_ straighten up the house between her phone call and their date yesterday.

"You cleaned your house for me?" she asked, a little curve to her lips and another melt to her heart. She found the idea of him doing that incredibly sweet.

"Only the important parts – you'd better not look around too closely," he admitted with his characteristic half-smile.

"I am most interested in looking at you," she husked, and leaned down to give him a warm kiss which he happily returned.

After raising her head, she asked, "You really don't have anything we could have for breakfast? What do you normally eat?"

"Coffee," he smirked. He thought for a moment. "Might have some cereal 'cause I sometimes eat that for supper, but the milk situation could be iffy."

"You do have coffee, though, yes?" Ziva inquired.

He nodded.

"But you'll have to reveal your secret ingredient to see if I have that," he pointed out triumphantly.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"All right, I will tell you," she conceded, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone else." She pushed up on straight arms and rose over him determinedly. "And you have to promise you will still come for my coffee."

"Won't tell a soul," he promised, "and you're stuck with me."

Her brown eyes gazed into his blue ones with a depth of emotion that clearly communicated she liked the sound of that.

"Cinnamon."

His eyebrows drew together in confusion at the seemingly sudden change of topic.

A half-smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "My secret ingredient for the coffee is cinnamon. I sprinkle some over the grounds as the coffee is brewing and add a little more to your cup before I serve it to you."

"Huh," he responded, clearly surprised. "That's it?" He'd frankly been expecting something fancier.

"That's it," she confirmed. "You sound disappointed." Her eyes twinkled at him.

"No…" he drawled in a thinking voice. "Just feel like I should have been able to figure that out."

She chuckled. "Not everything is complicated, Special Agent Gibbs."

He acknowledged the truth of her words with that single nod to the side of his. For instance, waking up with her this morning didn't feel complicated in the least – for the moment anyway.

Despite their reluctance to leave the bed, they did eventually decide on going out for breakfast, then hitting the grocery store so they had food for later. The two of them wandered downstairs to make coffee first, and he admired the sight of her standing in his kitchen wearing nothing but his black shirt from last night. She'd slipped it on as her things were still in her bag that had never made it beyond the front hall.

Running a finger down the buttons that held the shirt closed, he told her, "This looks better on you than it does on me." The approval in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Now _that_ would be impossible," she flirted, running a hand up his chest to cup the back of his neck.

"Make you a deal," he husked, his hands coming around to clasp loosely at her low back.

"What's that?" she smiled.

"I'll wear this shirt again," he began, referring to her request from last night, "if you wear it the next morning." His blue-eyed gaze gleamed wolfishly.

She melted into him in a sexy pose, her thighs straddling one of his as she leaned against him.

"I think that can be arranged," she murmured in a sultry voice, nuzzling her nose against his throat before biting him gently.

His hands came up to hold her face as he proceeded to kiss her thoroughly until the fragrant smell of the coffee stirred them into parting.

They showered together and a hot, energizing round of shower sex took them both by surprise. However, as he slid into her from behind as she stood slightly bent with her hands braced against the tile, neither of them had the slightest complaint.

Afterwards, Jethro dressed in jeans and black Henley-style shirt with the sleeves pushed up to reveal his muscled forearms. Ziva pulled on a pair of tight-fitting jeans and matched them with a multi-colored burnout tee with short sleeves that just came over her shoulder. The neckline was a rounded V and the thin material clung to her like a second skin. The colors – mostly black, blues & white – were in a random, almost splattered pattern and the overall effect was very flattering … so flattering that Gibbs advanced on her purposefully and the only reason they made it out the door for food was that Ziva's stomach growled just as he was a breath away from her soft lips, causing them both to laugh.

They went to a restaurant that served a casual Sunday brunch, which was perfect given the time that they finally made it there. The grocery store was next and Ziva asked him how he felt about an early picnic for supper, since they'd eaten breakfast late and the day was beautiful. He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear as he agreed.

They chose simple things for supper that would be good cold – chicken from the deli, pasta salad, fruit – and Ziva insisted they get some staples for his house, fussing that he should eat better. He found he liked having her concerned about him, so he made no complaint when she put milk, bread, eggs, some extra fresh fruit and vegetables and the like in the basket. Oh, and cinnamon. Gibbs had unearthed a small can of it, but Ziva had wrinkled her nose in disgust after looking at the rusty container and the expiration date and had given the spice a proper burial in the garbage can.

They loaded the groceries in Jethro's truck. As they were climbing in, Ziva said, "Next weekend I will bring some things to cook for you."

Then she realized she was making the assumption that he would want her there next weekend, and she hid her face with her hair as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "I mean, if … you know … if I'm over next weekend."

Jethro raised her face to his with one hand under her chin and brushed her hair back with the other.

Ziva closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, I should not have assumed –"

"Rule 6 - never apologize," he said reflexively but not ungently. "Look at me, Ziva."

She opened her eyes, but kept them guarded.

"For the record, you can assume that I want you over next weekend…" He kissed one of her cheeks. "…and the next weekend…" He pressed his lips to her other cheek. "…and the weekend after that." He brushed a kiss over her mouth.

"In fact," he said quietly but firmly, looking her in the eyes, "can't foresee a weekend when I _won't_ want you with me … and it's entirely possible I'm going to start crowding in on your weeknights. Think you can deal with that?"

"Yes," she husked, her eyes bright with a myriad of emotions, including relief. "I can most definitely deal with that."

He took her mouth in a long, slow kiss that underscored his point. He loved that her eyes were slumberous with desire when he finally raised his head to gaze down at her.

"But you don't have to cook for me all the time," he finished in a warm voice that said he hadn't been unaffected by that kiss himself, "though you probably shouldn't expect much cooking from me except for the occasional steak grilled in my fireplace." His eyes glinted with self-deprecating humor, but he was perfectly serious.

She grinned and they headed back to his place to put away the groceries.

While they were there, Ziva asked about his basement, remembering his admission from their first date as to how he spent his spare time. She was in awe of the boat he had in process and commented that she could understand why he'd be drawn here. Despite the cinder-block walls and spartan setting, the space had a warm, secure atmosphere and it just felt like it suited him.

Then she stared at the boat thoughtfully and asked how he was going to get it out of the basement. He just smirked mysteriously. She narrowed her eyes determinedly and vowed to get _that_ secret out of _him._ He couldn't resist distracting her with a deep kiss and reflected inwardly that it promised to be a lot of fun while she tried.

They went back upstairs to pack up for their picnic. He suggested a park that was about a half-hour away because there was a view he loved there and thought she would, too. Plus, they could do some hiking if they wanted, which he knew she enjoyed.

Before too long, they were at the park. Leaving the backpack that held their dinner in the truck for now, they explored a couple of trails. When they started getting hungry, they went back for the pack and a blanket, and Jethro led Ziva onto a different track that was obviously not well-used, probably because it was quite steep. Once they got to the top and went off the beaten path to the spot Jethro was thinking of, however, the view was breathtaking and well worth the climb. They could see Chesapeake Bay in the distance, the outline of the capital in the other direction, and all varieties of landscape in between.

"It is beautiful here," Ziva whispered, not wanting to mar the serenity of the place.

Gibbs smiled, pleased at her reaction. They spread the blanket out under a tree and ate supper. The food was tasty, the conversation easy and interesting, and the company was unsurpassed.

"I have always wanted to stay in a cabin in the woods," Ziva admitted, "high up – maybe in the mountains - with a view like this. The only thing I would change is that the water would be closer, not far away like that."

"Sounds nice," Gibbs agreed with his characteristic half-smile.

"Oh and private," Ziva added. Then she laughed at herself and shook her head. "I doubt that such a place exists with all those requirements."

Unbeknownst to her, Gibbs started plotting right then and there to find one.

They finished eating and returned everything to their pack. Gibbs leaned his back against the tree and held out his hand to Ziva. "C'mere," he said softly.

Ziva scooted over to him and snuggled up against his side, her cheek resting on his chest and her arm curving across his middle. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, just breathing in her surroundings and Jethro. Letting out a heartfelt sigh, she relaxed completely against her lover.

"Hope that was a happy sigh," he teased, his left arm curving around her back. His hand cupped her shoulder and his fingers rhythmically stroked the smooth skin of her arm.

"Mmmm … definitely a happy sigh," she told him, her own lips curving.

She opened her eyes to enjoy the view again and they talked about everything and nothing.

She found her mind wandering back to their evening last night.

"So, what do you think your friends think of me?" she asked him softly, her fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

He looked down at her, though all he could see was the top of her head.

"Does it matter?" he questioned.

She shrugged, telling him wordlessly that it did matter – to her.

He tipped her chin up so he could see her face.

"Did someone say something?" he asked, his eyes going a little hard.

She shook her head.

"Well, not in a bad way," she told him. "Kate said I am good for you." Her lips curved in a small smile as she remembered the comment.

"Kate's a smart woman," Gibbs responded, rubbing his thumb over her chin.

"Everyone was very nice," she drawled, clearly thinking. She reflected thoughtfully, "After our introduction, Tony seemed a little quieter than I expected, given the way you have described him."

Gibbs had noticed that, too, and understood that his senior agent was trying to figure out how Ziva fit in with the few other women he'd seen come and go in his boss' life.

"Probably just wishin' he'd met you first," Gibbs said lightly, "or trying to keep from sticking his foot in his mouth again."

"Or avoid another slap to the head," Ziva offered, slightly amused. "Do you always do that?"

"Yep," he replied casually, leaning his head back against the tree and closing his eyes.

Ziva shook her head and then laid it back against his chest.

"Jethro?" she said quietly.

"Mmmm?" he responded, still in his relaxed position.

She tilted her face up to look into his. He glanced down as he felt her movement.

"Nothing would be different even if Tony had met me first," she assured him softly, a gentle expression on her face.

The pleasure that lit his eyes widened her smile.

"Glad to hear it," he husked and cradled her in more closely again.

She snuggled into him and felt her eyes getting heavy. She closed them again, just for a minute.

Jethro had noticed her breathing becoming even and light, and when she didn't answer him at one point, he looked down to confirm she'd fallen asleep against him. He grinned, absurdly happy that she'd relaxed enough to drift into a nap. He watched over her while she slept, alternating his gaze between the beautiful view and her lovely features. For a man of action, he was amazingly content to just sit and let her sleep against him.

After about thirty minutes, she started to stir. Eyes still closed, her brows furrowed a bit and her head gave a little jerk as though she were trying to figure out where she was. Then she became aware of the pressure of his chest against her cheek and she relaxed, murmuring his name with a small smile. Slowly her eyes blinked open and she took in her surroundings. Suddenly, she tensed and sat up, her big brown eyes flying up to meet Jethro's sparkling blue ones. His eyes were crinkled with the smile that was also reflected on his lips.

She gasped. "Did I fall asleep?" she asked, mortified.

"Um-hum," he answered, smoothing her hair and tucking it behind her ear. His characteristic half-smile tugged up one corner of his mouth.

She closed her eyes, completely embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she started, "you must think –"

She suddenly found herself flat on her back, with Jethro leaning over her.

"I think," he said deliberately in a sexy voice that sent shivers down her spine, "that you're used to getting more sleep than you did last night …"

She started to relax and smiled up at him.

He leaned in to bump her nose lightly with his before he finished.

"… and I'm glad you're comfortable enough with me to fall asleep, 'cause I don't think you'd do that with just anyone."

She raised one hand to his chest and the other to stroke the side of his face.

"You are right," she husked with more than a little awe in her expression, "on both counts."

Satisfaction flared in his eyes, then he bent his mouth to hers for a kiss that began warm and soft before becoming deeper, more sensual. He rolled more heavily against her and they both luxuriated in at the increased contact. Their kisses went on and on. He slid his hand under the back of her shirt and she returned the favor. They carefully kept the heat from flaring out of control given their location, but both their hearts were racing by the time they came up for some extended air.

The very beginning of twilight was just starting to fall, Ziva noticed with some regret.

"I guess we had better start back," she noted, disappointment clear in her voice. "After all, you still need to take me home and we both have work tomorrow."

"Stay again tonight," he requested quietly, his eyes roaming her beautiful face.

"I would like nothing more," she admitted softly, "but I have to be at work very early and I do not have my car."

"I'll take you home in time for work," he told her. Bending his head, he nibbled along her jaw and down her neck and beyond. "Want you again – maybe more than once." She could feel his smirk against her skin.

"Maybe?" she asked archly, one brow raised.

He looked up at her, his mouth barely raising from her chest. "Remember, I'm –" she narrowed her eyes at him – "not as young as you are." She smirked. _Nice save_.

"May not have the strength to keep up with you," he finished, half teasing, half serious.

"Jethro," she stated firmly. "We managed to have sex four times in about twelve hours and _I_ am the one who needed a nap. I do not think it is your stamina we need to worry about."

He couldn't help it – he grinned.

The combination of laughter, heat and pride in his eyes made her melt … and start to give in.

The emotion in his eyes deepened and he traced her lips with his forefinger.

"I want to go to sleep with you again tonight and wake up with you again in the morning," he told her with certainty, "and I'm willing to get up as early as I need to to make that happen."

"You do remember that I go in at five a.m., yes?" she asked, still a little skeptical. "That means we have to get up no later than four."

"Been up a lot earlier for a lot worse reasons," he pointed out. He could feel her caving so he nuzzled her throat at that sweet spot that sent goose-bumps zinging down her arms for good measure.

"Please?" he whispered against her skin, his tongue darting out to lick its way slowly up her throat.

Apparently it took a stronger woman that she was to withstand that mouth … that voice … that word.

"Yes," she whispered, "I would love to stay again tonight." Happiness bubbled up inside her when she could all but hear his silent but triumphant _oo-rah_.

He dropped a brief, hard kiss to her lips then rolled to his feet. Stretching a hand down to her, he pulled her to a standing position and hugged her close.

"Let's go home," he suggested.

She agreed and they folded up the blanket which Ziva carried over her arm, while Jethro grabbed the backpack. His free arm curved around her shoulders as they started down the trail.

"Remind me to plan our next picnic in the back yard," he told her.

"Oh? Why?" she threw a curious gaze up at him.

"Closer to the bed," he explained, perfectly serious.

Her delighted laugh kept him smiling all the way home.

* * *

><p>The next morning, he found her in the kitchen just turning on the coffee pot to start the brewing cycle. He quietly padded up behind her, placed his hands low on her hips and pulled her back against him.<p>

"I woke up and you were gone," he spoke into her ear in a mock growl.

"I thought you might appreciate your coffee being ready when you woke up," she explained, scooping her hair to one side and tilting her head in silent invitation for him to kiss her neck. He didn't disappoint her. "Especially given the early hour."

"I'd appreciate your attention to this even more," he murmured wickedly, rubbing his erection into her backside, not lifting his lips from her skin.

"Mmmm … I wish we had time," she voiced with regret.

"You have other plans while we're waiting for the coffee?" he asked suggestively.

She turned in his arms, running her hands appreciatively up his bare chest to loop behind his neck. She looked up at him in amusement.

"You actually believe we can take care of this," she pressed her hips into his, "in the time it takes for the coffee to be ready?"

"Oh, I know we can," he confirmed. "We'll take care of you, too."

He took her mouth in a deep kiss that she gladly returned. She was skeptical, but she was willing to be late for work for this.

The heat built between them quickly, fueled in no small part by the knowledge that it would likely be a few days before they would be together like this again.

Jethro lifted her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. He carried her to the table – a table that he'd built with his own two hands – and laid her out on the surface.

"Like this," he said warmly, running his hands admiringly over the forest green silk robe she'd pulled from her bag to wear. He opened it and looked down at her, now skimming his fingertips over her bare skin. His voice deepened an octave. "Like this even more."

He braced his arms on either side of her and bent to kiss her again. He then quickly but purposefully worked his way down her body, hitting every spot that he knew made her crazy. He didn't stop until he reached the very center of her. He delved his tongue inside her moist folds, making her gasp his name and arch her back off the table.

He worked her with his wicked tongue until she was close and ready for him. Rising up, he freed himself from the sweats he'd pulled on before coming downstairs. Lining up at her entrance, he breathed her name and she opened whiskey-brown eyes that had gone hazy with need.

"Watch." She rose up on her forearms to follow his husky command.

Both of them stared, mesmerized, as he pushed slowly inside her, overcoming her body's natural resistance and feeling every inch of her slick walls encasing him tightly. The watching somehow drove up the intensity even more.

She whispered his name. After he was buried to the hilt, he pulled slowly back out, then with one thrust of his hips he seated himself all the way inside her fast and deep.

"More," she whimpered, her head falling back and her legs wrapping around him.

And more she got.

He picked up speed, sending her higher and higher. She laid back against the surface of the table, unable to hold herself up any longer. He reached down and latched onto one of her nipples, suckling greedily. She cried out and cradled his head to her with one of her arms. Bracing himself with only one hand, he used his other on her swollen clit and she went over the edge with a strangled cry. With three more thrusts, he followed her over, emptying himself inside her.

He melted down onto her, resting his cheek on her chest. He could literally feel her heart pounding as fast as his was and a sense of repletion swelled within him. She wrapped her arms around him as she rode out the aftershocks, clenching his softening shaft with her inner muscles.

Over their labored breathing the distinct gurgle from the coffee pot announced that the dark, rich brew was ready.

Ziva laughed delightedly, even as she could feel him grin against her skin.

"Told ya," he bragged with great satisfaction.

* * *

><p>An hour later they arrived at her place. They stopped in at her apartment, moving stealthily so as not to wake a sleeping Tali. Ziva had sent her a text the night before to let her sister know she was staying at Jethro's again and would be by in the morning to change for work and open the shop, but they still didn't want to startle her awake.<p>

After they went downstairs, he parked himself at the small table in the kitchen and read the paper while she made scones and muffins and got the coffee started. He made himself useful at one point by letting in the delivery guy bringing today's supply of fresh bagels.

She brought Gibbs coffee and something to eat when she had both ready and he pulled her down for a quick kiss of thanks. She wasn't interested in brief and captured his lips again, letting the kiss spin out. When she skimmed her lips over to his ear and whispered that he looked sexy in his reading glasses, he snorted in disbelief. The heat that mixed with the twinkle in her eyes assured him she wasn't kidding.

Just before she unlocked the doors for her customers at 6:30, he kissed her goodbye with a promise to see her later. As she watched him walk out the back door to his car so he could head to work himself, she reflected that she could really get used to waking up with Jethro.


	11. All in the Family, Part 1

_A/N: For gosgirl... =)_

* * *

><p><em>Later that week<em>…

On Friday, Team Gibbs arrived at _Brewed _Awakenings for lunch at Kate and Abby's suggestion. Gibbs appreciated the gesture and was glad they liked Ziva enough to be interested in her place. All that was true. It was also true that Abby and Kate figured it would increase the chance that Gibbs might actually go out with them this time. They were right.

Tony went along easily, but inside was feeling a little awkward. He'd been thrown off balance the other night when they'd all met Ziva. She wasn't anything like he'd expected – so much so that it hadn't even occurred to him that _she_ was "Gibbs' new friend" when he first laid eyes on her. Then, Gibbs showed up with an alternate personality and it had taken Tony a while to catch up. He was recovering, but wasn't sure what kind of impression he'd made – and couldn't really pinpoint why it mattered so much.

Ziva was clearly pleased to see them all, though they'd arrived at one of her busy times and she didn't have a chance to join them at their table. Tony finished his sandwich first and noticed that Ziva was puttering around behind the counter by herself and that the rush seemed to have calmed. He announced that he was going to see what might be available for an afternoon snack and made his way to the counter. Ziva saw him coming and gave him an easy smile.

"May I get you something else, Tony?" she asked congenially.

"Yeah … I was, uh, thinking about dessert," he mumbled, his eyes on the glass cases holding the sweet stuff. Then he grabbed for some backbone and looked up at her. "And … could we maybe talk for a sec - ?"

She looked at him searchingly and sensed that he'd like to speak to her privately.

"Certainly," she said and called back into the kitchen for Becky to come up front.

Walking around the side of the counter, she tilted her head down the hallway and led him to her office. She didn't close the door as there wasn't much traffic back there just now. Besides, if the blue eyes that had followed them down the hallway showed up in person, she didn't want there to be any cause for misunderstanding.

Ziva removed her hat and leaned against her desk, seemingly at ease. She looked at the agent expectantly.

"Is there something on your mind, Tony?" Her guess was that he hadn't quite decided what to think of her, though she hadn't said as much to Jethro when they were talking about it the other day. She didn't attribute any malice to it; on the contrary, it simply felt like his first reaction was to protect Gibbs if necessary and she respected that.

"Great place you've got here," he started. "And those desserts look so good, it's gonna be hard to choose."

"Thank you," Ziva responded with a faint smile. "If you like chocolate, my advice is to go for the brownie."

The slight curve to her lips stayed in place as she added knowingly, "But that is not what you wanted to talk about."

"Right." Tony took a deep breath, then went straight to the real reason he had wanted a moment with her. "I was wondering if maybe we could have a do-over on the introductions from the other night," he explained somewhat hesitantly.

"A 'do-over'?" she repeated, her brows slightly gathered questioningly.

"Yeah. You know – start over," Tony explained.

Ah.

"If you think we need to," she assented with the ghost of a smile. After a pause, she held out her hand with a twinkle in her eyes. "Hello. My name is Ziva."

Relief quickly gave way to humor in his eyes just before he shook her hand.

"Tony - Tony DiNozzo," he responded. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too," she grinned.

"So, I hear you're dating my boss," Tony offered conversationally.

"You heard correctly," she smiled, "I am very happy to say."

There was a slight gap in the conversation and then Tony responded quietly.

"He is, too." When she looked at him quizzically, he clarified, "Happy."

And _that_, Tony realized, was why her impression of him mattered.

Her face softened, her thoughts clearly on Jethro and their relationship.

"The fact that he is means a lot to me," Tony revealed in a rare moment of seriousness and disclosure. Then an uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed look settled on his face that was sweet and funny at the same time. "But … do you have to tell him that? The Boss and me – we're tight – but we don't do the mushy stuff so much."

Ziva swallowed a grin.

"I think we can keep it between us," she said with a gleam in her eyes. "Unless he asks me directly, if course – and if he does, I'll try to play it down for you."

He looked relieved for the second time since entering her office before becoming contemplative.

"You weren't what I was expecting … and … he's different with you …" Tony revealed haltingly, his voice trailing off as his gaze slid from her.

"So, in addition to being uncertain about me, you were seeing a different side to Jethro, as well," Ziva guessed perceptively. "That must have been disconcerting at first."

Tony's relief now was almost palpable – and he began to see why Gibbs and Ziva seemed to click so well. Did she always put things together like this?

"Yeah…" he admitted. "And I guess I …" He stopped again, uncharacteristically searching for words.

"Needed a little time to process it all," she finished without judgment. "I thought you seemed a little quieter than I expected the other night; you were thinking – perhaps even a little suspiciously, hmmm?"

Tony looked slightly stunned.

"Okay, that's just scary," he declared. Then he hastened to add, "Not bad scary – Gibbs scary."

He hadn't even gotten there himself yet, but she was right. Part of what he did as the senior agent – as Gibbs' friend - was have his boss' back. That meant not necessarily trusting what he saw at first glance.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ziva said with a small smile of pleasure. Her eyes glinted with approval as she continued.

"I am glad your instinct is to ask questions and to look out for Jethro," Ziva told Tony softly. "Perhaps between the two of us we can look after him better than he tends to look after himself." Her smile was nothing but genuine.

"Deal," he agreed, holding out his hand for them to shake on it.

An alliance was born and the seeds of a friendship planted.

"Thanks for the time. We didn't get a chance to really talk after … you know …" He gestured with his hand in an attempt to finish his sentence.

"After you thought for two seconds that I might be available," she grinned, her tone putting him at ease.

"Uh, yeah … that," he admitted, clearly embarrassed. "Sor-"

She cut him off.

"No problem, Tony – and certainly nothing to break Rule 6 over," she winked.

"Wow – you've got the rules down?" He was clearly impressed.

"I am learning," she laughed. Then she wrinkled her nose pretty adorably as she added, "But there are a lot. Personally, I only have three."

"You have your own rules?" Tony asked in surprise. God, she really was perfect for Gibbs.

Ziva nodded, then made an admission of her own.

"However, I seem to have trouble remembering two of them when your boss is around, so perhaps I should start saying I only have one," she said dryly. "What do you think, Jethro?"

Nothing in Ziva's eyes or her stance had given away that she knew he'd arrived, but clearly she had sensed him. Ziva and Tony both looked over to see Gibbs leaning casually in the doorway.

"Since I'm the only exception to both those rules, you can keep 'em," he bantered, a banked twinkle in his eye for her. Then his eyes settled on his agent, considering. "You trying to make time with my girl again, DiNozzo?"

"No way, Boss," Tony assured him. "We were just …" His voice trailed off.

"Talking," Ziva stepped in to complete the thought. "Some decisions take some conversation, including what might make the perfect afternoon snack. My suggestion was the brownie."

Tony threw her a grateful look.

Ziva picked up the phone on her desk and pressed the intercom for the front counter.

"Agent DiNozzo is on his way up to choose some desserts," Ziva advised Becky when she answered. "It's on the house."

"Choose what you like," Ziva told Tony as she put the phone down, smiling at the way his eyes lit up, "for the others, too. Becky will take care of you."

"Thanks, Ziva," Tony said casually, starting to turn away again. Then he turned back and added with feeling, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she responded with a warm, small smile.

"Whadya want from the dessert case, Boss?" Tony asked on his way past Gibbs.

"I'm fine, DiNozzo," the older man shrugged off the question.

"I have an apple pie cooling in the kitchen. Ask Becky to cut a piece of that for him," Ziva suggested, throwing a twinkling, meaningful look at Jethro. He couldn't help the tiny grin that tugged at his lips.

"You heard the lady," he nudged his agent, gesturing with his head for Tony to keep moving.

When they were alone, Gibbs walked further into the office and up to his lover.

"You know if you feed him, he'll keep coming back," Gibbs pointed out knowingly, though there was humor lighting the back of his eyes.

"Good," Ziva declared, standing up straight and reaching for him. "That should increase my chances of keeping you around."

"Your chances of that are already off the charts," he told her.

Her eyes lit with affectionate pleasure.

"Everything okay?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips.

"Mhm," she assured him, wrapping her arms around his chest under his jacket to rub her hands up and down that long back.

"That was about more than dessert," he noted shrewdly, searching her face.

"Yes, it was," she admitted, reaching up on tip-toe to plant a brief kiss on his lips. "He just wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings from the other night. I thought it was very sweet."

"DiNozzo's a thinker … sometimes he has to figure things out before he's on board," Gibbs probed obliquely when she didn't elaborate. Some people missed that in Tony, but she wouldn't have.

"Sounds like you know your team, Special Agent Gibbs," Ziva said warmly with a curve to her lips.

"He upset you?" Gibbs asked pointedly.

"Not in the least," she reassured him. "In fact, I think he just might like me - and I fully appreciate the fact that he worries about you, looks out for you in his own way."

Gibbs gave her a faint a smile.

"Yeah, he does," he acknowledged.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and looked her over admiringly.

"See you tonight after work?" he confirmed hopefully, changing the subject.

"Most definitely," she breathed, as their mouths came together for a long, deep kiss. They were careful to keep the fire banked, but both their pulses were beating a little faster when their lips parted. "I have missed you the last few nights."

"Same here," he husked, ghosting his lips along her jaw. "Door won't be locked, so just come on in."

"Do you make that invitation to everyone?" she teased.

"Only the people I care about," he answered honestly, warmly, pulling back to look her in the eyes.

Her smile was beautiful, then turned provocative.

"Perhaps we should lock it after I get there, though," she suggested in a sultry tone. "If I keep thinking about you this afternoon the way I've been thinking of you all morning, we will be lucky to make it out of the front hall before I jump you."

"Don't feel like we need to on my account," he informed her heatedly, pressing her into him as his eyes twinkled at her.

Her delighted laugh drew an answering grin from him. They were still grinning as they shared one last kiss. Turning together, they walked down the hallway with his arm draped over her shoulders and her arm around his waist. Tony was still deliberating over his last choice, trying to decide between two items.

"Move it, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered as he moved past Tony. "When she said choose what you want, she didn't mean take the whole damn case."

Ziva stopped walking, which brought Jethro to a halt, as well. She gave an almost imperceptible nod to Becky, which the younger woman interpreted correctly. Without further ado, she picked up the iced brownie Tony had been dithering over and added it to the box that already contained Jethro's pie and a few other things.

"Hey, I –" Tony started to protest, then halted abruptly as Becky moved on to scoop up the other choice that had caught his eye, as well: a couple of large, soft, mouthwatering chocolate chip cookies.

Tony looked at Ziva questioningly.

"Sometimes, if we are lucky, we get to have exactly what we want." She followed that with a look for her lover that said she wasn't just talking about desserts.

That half-smile of his that she could just lick off his face tugged up one side of Gibbs' mouth. He squeezed her in a little closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead as she wrapped her other arm around the front of his waist to hug him in return.

For once, Tony didn't have a sarcastic comment about the display of affection; inside, he was just glad for his boss. He didn't comment on that either, though and got the others moving by announcing, "Follow me, people; I've got the good stuff." He held up the dessert box triumphantly. "Thanks, Ziva."

"Anytime," she returned with a warm smile.

Ziva and the others spoke briefly, then everyone headed back to work.

* * *

><p>Ziva and Gibbs settled into a routine that involved her staying at his place every Friday night through Monday morning if he wasn't working. He always went into the coffee shop with her on Mondays, driving her or following her there if she had driven herself to his house.<p>

She promoted one of her other staff to evening manager so that she didn't have to work until close most nights, including Friday. Either Gibbs or Ziva would grab take-out on the way home for Friday night and they stayed in, winding down from the week and enjoying each other's company.

They started going to the local farmer's market most Saturday mornings after waking up happily in each other's arms. Ziva had gone for years before those mornings were filled with her business. Now that Tali took care of that on the weekends, she and Jethro had begun going. Gibbs was surprised to find that he enjoyed tagging along with her as she purchased fresh foods and spoke to different vendors. Sometimes she was looking for ingredients or recipes to use at the shop and sometimes she purchased food for herself or for them, depending on what was on their menu for the weekend.

As time went on, part of Sunday was usually spent over at her uncle's dojo where Ziva and her cousin Maayan were teaching Jethro krav maga. He was a quick study, of course, and already familiar with some of the techniques. Given that this was not a real life and death situation, Gibbs found himself holding back at first until Ziva and Maayan made it clear with their own moves that that they expected more. No one got hurt and they managed to get in a good workout and have fun in the process.

They even spent time together in his basement. Sometimes he showed her how to do something he was working on because she was interested; other times, she looked through magazines or cookbooks for new recipes or read a book while he worked with the wood, a comfortable silence between them.

There were also times she sensed he needed to be down there by himself and she shooed him off, staying upstairs to cook or read or experiment with a new recipe. He loved that, as it filled the house with a delicious aroma and he always got the first bite of whatever it was. He appreciated even more that she didn't seem to have a problem with the fact that sometimes he needed to be by himself to shake off the lingering effects of a case or to think about something that was on his mind.

Team Gibbs got into the habit of dropping in at _Brewed Awakenings_ for lunch at least once a week. If they were buried in a case, Ziva took it upon herself to send over food.

Things went along easily, happily for the next couple of months. Ziva took Jethro to meet her mother. She loved how adorably nervous he obviously was. However, he and her mother had a mutual admiration society going on before the end of the first course of the dinner Mrs. David had insisted on making for them.

They decided to go away for a long weekend together. Jethro made all the arrangements and was very mysterious about it.

The weekend before they were set to leave, they had their first real disagreement.

Gibbs' father, Jackson, had dropped into NCIS unexpectedly that Friday morning, intending to stay the weekend with Jethro. He hadn't called ahead because he hadn't wanted Leroy to come up with a reason he shouldn't come, as he usually did. They didn't always get on, but Jackson kept hoping that would improve – when he wasn't being as hard-headed as his son about something, that is.

The team had met Jackson when a case had taken them to Gibbs' hometown of Stillwater and were happy to see him again. Their leader, however, was annoyed and not just because he and his dad didn't have an easy relationship. He had a feeling Ziva wasn't going to want to sleep over with his father in the house and he didn't like the thought of that, not one little bit.

He pulled the older man over by the large windows in the bullpen and said he wished he'd known he was coming. When Jackson pushed him persistently as to why, Jethro eventually admitted he usually had company on the weekends these days.

"This company have a name?" his dad asked curiously.

When Gibbs delayed too long in answering, DiNozzo coughed, "Ziva."

Two pairs of blue eyes fixed on him, one pair twinkling in amusement, the other sending a nonverbal head slap.

Jackson looked back at his son. "Is there a pretty lady to go with that pretty name?"

Again, Jethro didn't answer right away.

"Pretty?" Tony poked his nose in to answer incredulously. "Try su-MOKIN' hot."

Gibbs threw him another hard look.

"Shutting up, Boss," Tony said, burying his head in his work.

"You know, Gibbs, it's almost time for your mid-morning coffee run," Kate said brightly. "Why don't you take your dad along?" She gave the men an innocent smile, but it didn't fool her boss one bit.

Jethro stared at her, but Kate refused to be cowed by his expression. With a silent sigh, he headed to the elevator. When his dad didn't move, he looked back.

"Well, are ya comin'?" he asked almost exasperatedly.

Kate gave Jackson a reassuring wink and tilted her head toward the elevator. The two men rode down in silence, then headed to _Brewed Awakenings_. Jethro shortened his usual lengthy stride to accommodate his father's slower one. They walked mostly in silence. Jackson had learned long ago that you couldn't push Leroy to talk, especially when he was stewing about something.

When they got to the coffee shop, Gibbs held the door for his dad to go in first. Ziva was behind the counter and looked up. Her smile was pure pleasure as her eyes settled on Jethro, which did not go unnoticed by the elder Gibbs.

"Good morning," she said to her lover, her eyes full of promise for tonight.

"Well, you must be Ziva," Jackson observed as he reached the counter.

Ziva looked at him in surprise, then was caught by a carbon copy of the same blue eyes that she could cheerfully drown in.

"And with those eyes, you must be related to Jethro," she smiled, holding out her hand. "Ziva David."

"Jackson Gibbs," he returned, giving her hand a squeeze.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I did not know you were coming into town," Ziva observed, glancing at the younger Gibbs.

"You're not the only one," Jethro groused under his breath. Both of the others heard – and ignored - him.

Ziva automatically prepared Jethro's usual coffee and guessed that Jackson was similar in his taste for plain, black coffee. She was right. She gave him a cup of her special brew and his eyes widened in appreciation.

"Wow – what did you do to this?" he asked.

"That is confidential – and do not even try to get the answer out of Jethro," she playfully directed the older man with narrowed eyes. "He is sworn to secrecy."

Jethro accepted his own coffee from her and then flicked his eyes toward her office purposefully before returning them to Ziva. "Got a minute?"

"For you? Always," she returned softly.

Looking at the older man with a smile, Ziva suggested, "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Gibbs? I will have Becky bring you out a muffin. I am trying out another new recipe and I would love your opinion."

The older man invited her to call him by his first name and then happily complied. Ziva quickly made the arrangements with her staff. Jackson watched the couple walk down the hall, Jethro's hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

Once they got to her office, he shut the door behind them and put his coffee down. She tossed her ball cap onto her desk and turned into his arms. He kissed her brainless, trying to increase his chances of getting her to still come over for the weekend.

"Mmmm …" Ziva said as their mouths pulled apart. "What was that for?"

"Just a preview of tonight," he said, nuzzling her neck for several delicious moments. "By the way, guess my dad is staying with us for the weekend."

She stiffened. "You mean he is staying with _you_ for the weekend. I will not be."

"Ziva – " Jethro started to protest.

"No," Ziva said firmly, stepping out of his arms. "It would not be right."

"He already knows you stay with me on the weekends," Jethro told her, but that didn't have the intended effect.

"When did he learn that?" she asked.

"Today," he admitted.

"And when did you tell him we are dating?" she asked.

"Today," he all but mumbled.

"So all he knows about me is that I sleep with his son on the weekends," she said in a tone that was way too neutral for his liking.

"That's not all," Jethro said defensively.

She arched her brows at him in question.

This was really not going the way he wanted it to, so he forced himself to take a breath and concentrate on her – not on his frustration with his dad and the situation.

He stepped into her again, closing the small amount of distance she'd put between them. He rested his forehead on hers.

"He knows you own a coffee house," he pointed out. She rolled her eyes at him. He bit back a grin. His voice dropped to that level that never failed to send shivers down her spine. "And that you're beautiful." He dipped his head so the tip of his tongue could come out to taste that one certain sensitive spot on her neck.

The only response she could make was a strangled gasp.

He rested his cheek against her hair.

"Please, Ziva," he requested softly.

"Jethro-" He knew she was about to continue to refuse, so he stopped her with his lips, capturing hers in a kiss that went on forever.

"I want you with me," he said softly when he let her up for air, satisfied to note that her eyes were more than a little bit dazed.

"I want to be with you," she admitted, "but I just do not feel right sleeping with you with your father under the same roof."

"Dammit, Ziva -" She stiffened and pulled as far away as her small office would allow.

"You are mad at me," she observed quietly, turning her back so he couldn't see her face.

He gave a deep internal sigh. No, he wasn't mad at her. But in his usual fashion, he was mangling the conversation.

He followed her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he spoke against her hair.

"Not mad at you," he said. "Just … frustrated – in more ways than one."

She could hear his wry smile in his tone at the end of his explanation and she softened.

"And you think I am not?" she asked with feeling, turning to face him.

This time he released an audible sigh and she finally relaxed against him again, burying her face in his neck.

"I cannot help who I am, Jethro," she said.

"Wouldn't want you to change a thing," he assured her, running his hands up and down her back. "Just wish …"

"Me, too," she whispered.

He tilted her chin up and they shared another deep, meaningful kiss.

"Can I see you later for a while?" he asked hopefully.

"Why don't you spend some time with your father and I'll catch up on some things around here," she suggested, hiding her regret at the change of plans.

His disappointment showed in his eyes, nearly causing her to change her mind. Gibbs finally resigned himself to the fact that she wasn't coming over later, but he wasn't happy about it. He cupped her jaw in his hand.

"I'll pick you up for the market in the morning, okay?" His eyes roamed her lovely face as he asked.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her brows drawn together a bit. "What about your father?"

Gibbs snorted. "He can -"

"Jethro." She cut him off with a word.

He shrugged. "I don't care what he does."

"He could come along," she suggested, "if he wants."

She knew enough about Jethro's relationship with Jackson to know that it was strained at best, but she wasn't comfortable with blatantly leaving the man out of their plans when he'd just driven four hours to visit his son.

Gibbs sighed again, then gave a slight version of his characteristic smile. "I'll ask him."

Ziva slid her arms up around his neck and looked up at him. "I will miss you," she admitted huskily.

"Missing you already," he returned.

After another long, heartfelt kiss, they reluctantly pulled apart.

"Guess I'd better let you get back to work," he observed, though his tone telegraphed that that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"And you should get back to your father," she added, "and to work."

"I'll call you later," he said.

She smiled and pressed one more quick kiss to his lips. "Just think, next weekend we will have four whole days to ourselves."

They'd both arranged to be off Friday and Monday, taking a long weekend for the getaway they'd planned. Tali would put in extra hours and Ziva's mom was also helping out.

"Can't wait," he said warmly, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.

She hugged him tightly and burrowed her face into his neck, silently communicating that she couldn't either.

They left Ziva's office and returned to Jackson. The old man beamed at Ziva.

"Now, that was the best muffin I've ever tasted," he declared. "That fruit in the middle was delicious."

"I am glad you liked it," Ziva said with a smile. "Perhaps I will add that one to the menu."

The two men made to leave.

"We'll be seeing you later, I hope?" Jackson asked Ziva, turning it into a question.

"Not tonight," Ziva said. "But perhaps you'd like to come with us to the farmers' market in the morning?"

Surprise crossed Jackson's eyes though he quickly squelched it. He had trouble believing his son went to the farmers' market.

"You two don't need an old man in your way," he demurred.

"You will not be in the way," Ziva said firmly.

"Well, okay then," Jackson agreed, secretly happy. "If you're sure."

With goodbyes all around and a squeeze from Jethro's hand to Ziva's, the two men were out the door.

* * *

><p>After work, Gibbs was thankful that Ducky, Abby and Kate organized the team into grabbing dinner together in celebration of Jackson's visit. He really didn't want to be alone with his father yet, as his mood was still surly – especially after he'd called Ziva to see if she'd join them for dinner, but she'd declined, citing work. In reality, she just thought it would be even harder to skip sleeping at his house tonight if she saw him again, but she didn't tell him that.<p>

At midnight that night, Gibbs sat on his bed holding his cell phone, the light from the lamp on his bedside table casting a soft glow. He'd talked to Ziva earlier after she'd gotten home from work and his dad was in bed, but it hadn't been enough. He wanted to be with her, wanted her cuddled up next to him while they slept. He just needed to decide on the best plan to make that happen.

Suddenly his phone rang. He looked at the screen. _Ziva_. With a little smile he answered immediately.

"Hey," he said softly.

"I am coming in, so do not shoot me or anything," she said almost tersely. Then, taking a page out of his book, she hung up without saying goodbye.

He looked at the phone in surprise, then heard a very faint noise downstairs that told him she had come in the house. He'd given her a key, but still didn't lock his door except on the nights she stayed with him.

His heart started beating a little faster and he couldn't help that his smile grew wider.

The stairs squeaked in places so he could hear her getting closer. Quietly, Ziva opened his bedroom door and closed it behind her, pressing the lock in on the door handle. She dropped her overnight bag inaudibly to the floor and removed the hoodie and soft yoga pants that she'd pulled on over her soft cotton jammies that consisted of a sky blue camisole and boy shorts in a matching plaid.

Without a word – without even looking at him – she slipped into her side of the bed. _When had it become __her__ side exactly?_ she wondered. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she closed her eyes as though she were going immediately to sleep.

"You win," she groused, not opening her eyes.

His half-smirk tucked up one side of his lips. He shucked off the sweats he'd pulled on and slid under the covers beside her. Her traitorous body kept inching over until it was just touching his. Gibbs turned on his side and propped his head on his hand, staring at her silently.

"What?" she asked, still without opening her eyes.

"Just trying to figure out who you're mad at," he told her, "me or yourself."

"Myself," she said exasperatedly, tossing her hands into the air for emphasis, letting them fall again to the bedspread. She finally opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. He waited her out until she continued.

"I should be able to sleep without you, Jethro," she explained in a frustrated voice.

"You can," he assured her. "You do it every Monday through Thursday."

She mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked, laying his hand on her belly and rubbing gentle circles there.

"Not very well," she repeated, just barely above a murmur.

To hide his grin, he bent his head to nuzzle her neck.

"Huh. You know what that means," he said purposefully.

"That I am weak," she muttered. The self-disgust in her tone as she emphasized the last word nearly had him laughing out loud.

"Nope – means we should sleep together more often," he suggested warmly, "especially since I sleep better with you, too."

She started to melt and rolled a little more toward him. Then she remembered the other reason she was irritated with herself and stopped.

"Well, it certainly appears you were doing just fine here without me tonight," Ziva said in a voice that was just small enough to make her even madder at herself.

"Did I sound sleepy when I answered the phone?" he asked her, almost conversationally.

She thought back. "No," she replied, drawing the word out slowly.

"How long did it take me to answer?" His right hand slid over to her hip and nudged her closer to him.

"Not even a whole ring," she realized out loud. She looked up at him in some confusion, her brain clearly engaged in trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"That's because I was holding it when you called," he informed her, "trying to decide between calling you to let me in your first floor security door or calling McGee to get me past it so you couldn't leave me outside."

His eyes took on a definite twinkle. Gibbs leaned down and brushed his nose against hers.

"Was leanin' toward McGee," he revealed, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth.

Her expressive eyes showed surprise, quickly followed by disbelief warring with delight. She gave up all pretense of trying to keep some space between them and rolled completely against him.

"You are not serious," she returned, though her body was molding to his like it completely believed him – and was secretly thrilled.

His hand had slid around to her lower back as she turned into him and he urged her even closer with it. He bent his head and took her mouth in a blazing, heart-pounding kiss.

"That feel serious enough for you?" he murmured when he lifted his head a little.

"Mmmm …" she breathed. She couldn't even call him on his decidedly male look of satisfaction that he had reduced her to barely-coherent noises.

She pulled his lips back down to hers and returned the favor.

The heat built nicely between them, coiling deliciously in their stomachs and spiraling out from there. Hands slid under shirts and relished the feel of bare skin.

Then Ziva remembered why she'd intended not to sleep here tonight.

"Um, Jethro?" she managed, even though the feel of his lips nibbling across the tops of her breasts was making it really hard to think.

"Mmmm…?" he answered, completely enthralled with the way she felt, tasted.

She managed to tug his head up, but lost track of her thoughts again when he kissed her.

Then the sound of someone going into the bathroom down the hall brought her crashing back to reality. She pushed against his chest until he rose up enough that she could see his face.

"Jethro…" she repeated and cupped his face to look into his eyes … and promptly got distracted. She adored his eyes. And his face. And everything else about him.

A door closed quietly and she was able to finally finish her thought.

"I am not sure I can relax enough to … you know," she whispered, regret plainly evident through the shyness in her tone.

He grinned inwardly. She couldn't even say the word sex with his father in the house.

"Bet I could make you wanna," he murmured provocatively, nuzzling her throat.

She moaned softly.

"I know you could," she replied huskily. "But…" She looked up at him pleadingly, though she honestly couldn't say if she really wanted him to back off or try to change her mind.

He knew all that, but didn't press her.

With a gentle smile he pulled his hand out from under her shirt and smoothed it down her back.

"Okay," he relented, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We'll sleep."

He rolled over and turned out the light, staying on his back. He pulled her close so that her head was lying on his shoulder, her left hand resting on his chest.

Dropping a kiss to her head he said, "Just glad you're here."

He felt her lips curve in a smile as he closed his eyes.

"Me, too" she said softly. Then she added wryly, "Though I have no idea how I am going to face your father in the morning."

"Don't worry," he directed.

"Goodnight," she murmured on a sigh, closing her own eyes.

"'Night," he answered.

She really did try to go to sleep. Really. But the feel of him … the smell of him … and that chest … Her hand started wandering over it, then her cheek rubbed against it. Needing to feel his skin again, she slipped under his navy blue t-shirt and smoothed her hand over his stomach then up to run her fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest.

The man was very hard to resist … and, for the life of her, she suddenly couldn't remember why she'd wanted to try.

"Jethro?"

"Hmmm?" he asked, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her upper arm.

She rolled on top of him, causing him to open his eyes.

"Relax me," she murmured into his ear in a sultry voice.

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin when she added one modifier to her command.

"Quietly."

* * *

><p><em>AN continued:__ Yet another THANKS to iyimgrace for the yummy new avatar. HUGS, my friend! :)_


	12. All in the Family, Part 2

_A/N: Laying some groundwork here ... Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>The next morning Gibbs came awake spooning up against Ziva's back. He lay there for a while with a curve to his lips just enjoying the feel of her and remembering last night.<p>

They had managed to keep their lovemaking quiet the night before, but it had been a close call a couple of times.

He blinked his eyes open and glanced at the clock. He knew his dad was an early riser and he wanted to intercept him before Jackson and Ziva crossed paths. He started to get up, but stopped when she made a little noise of protest, her brows drawing together a bit.

He rubbed her hip soothingly and whispered against her hair, "Shhh … sleep."

She immediately relaxed back into her pillow. He pressed a kiss to her head and managed to leave the bed.

He hit the head and pulled on his t-shirt and sweats from last night. He quietly closed his bedroom door behind him and went down to make coffee. Halfway down the steps he caught a whiff of his favorite brew and knew his dad had beaten him to it.

Gibbs walked into the kitchen and Jackson looked up from reading the morning paper at the table, his glasses low on his nose.

"Morning, Leroy," he offered.

"Mornin', Dad," he responded in an easy tone, heading straight for the coffee pot. It wouldn't have Ziva's special touch, but it would do – until he could sweet-talk her into making another pot.

"Wasn't sure what you and Ziva wanted for breakfast, so thought I'd wait for one of you to come down before I started making something," Jackson informed him casually, his eyes back on the paper.

The younger Gibbs went completely still, then smirked and shook his head a little.

"How'd you know she was here?" he asked his dad, turning toward the older man while leaning against the counter.

"Don't sleep worth a darn these days. Heard someone on the stairs last night," Jack explained. "Since you didn't come out shootin', I figured it was welcome company. And you're in a much better mood this morning, which pretty much confirms it."

Jethro acknowledged the truth of that with a single nod and a slight smirk.

There was a pregnant but not uncomfortable pause.

"She's not sure about staying over with you here," Jethro revealed quietly. "Anything you can do to put her at ease would be appreciated."

Jackson gave up any pretense of trying to read. He laid the paper down and pulled off his glasses before turning slowly toward his son.

"I'm sorry, son," he began. "Didn't mean to make her uncomfortable."

"It's not you," Jethro informed him. "She's just got an old-fashioned streak about some things." The private smile on his face said that was one of the things he found endearing about her.

"Guess I shoulda called ahead this time," the old man observed ruefully.

"You didn't know about her," Jethro pointed out. "That's on me."

He reflected silently for a moment, staring into his coffee mug as though it held secrets to be revealed. "I should've told you about her," he continued almost grudgingly. "She's important to me."

"We've never been good about talkin'," Jackson observed with the ghost of a small smile. "Neither one of us … especially not … lately."

Jethro nodded once in agreement, a wry curve to his lips. He raised his mug to his mouth again.

"How long you two been seeing each other?" Jackson asked curiously.

"Three months next weekend," Jethro revealed, an unmistakable note of satisfaction in his voice.

"Do you want me to head back to Stillwater today?" Jack asked quietly after a brief pause.

Gibbs looked at him. "No," he answered honestly, "but I want her here, too."

"I'm partial to that idea myself," the elder Gibbs returned. "I'd like to get to know her."

That characteristic half-smile tugged at his Jethro's lips. "Think I'd like that," he admitted, surprised to find that he meant it.

"Then it appears it is unanimous," said a soft, feminine voice from the entrance to the kitchen.

Both Gibbs men turned to find Ziva leaning against the doorway with her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans and a gentle curve to her lips. That black fitted shirt she'd worn the first night they had dinner at her apartment hugged her curves nicely.

She was greeted by two welcoming smiles and two sets of brilliant blue eyes. Not a bad way to start the day, she reflected silently. Not a bad way at all.

"Well, good morning," Jackson beamed. "And here I was worried I wouldn't get to see nearly as much of you as I was hoping to this weekend."

"And here I thought perhaps you would rather have Jethro mostly to yourself this weekend," she teased, walking into the kitchen to the older man. She gave him an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder, then stood next to Jethro. She wrapped her arm around his waist in a move that was clearly second-nature to her. Equally naturally, he dropped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her in to place a kiss on her head.

"Nah," Jackson denied. With a distinct twinkle in his eyes he added, "I've known him all his life, but you and I have a lot of catching up to do."

Ziva's light laugh made both men smile.

And just like that, any awkwardness she might have felt simply dissipated.

Jackson insisted on making breakfast. "I reckon I have you to thank for the fact that there's actually food here to fix," the older man said to Ziva.

She threw a rueful glance at Jethro, who just smirked. "I do believe I had something to do with that," she admitted modestly.

Ziva made a second pot of coffee. They chatted lightly over the meal, with Ziva and Jackson doing most of the talking.

Jethro insisted on taking care of the dishes, so Jackson went upstairs to get ready for their outing to the farmer's market.

When they were alone, Ziva and Jethro looked at each other affectionately. Even as he was tugging her toward him by the hand, she was moving to stand beside him.

She looped her arms about his neck, cupping the back of his head with one hand. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Good morning," she said with a lovely small smile.

"Morning," he responded with his half-smile tugging up one side of his mouth.

Bending her head, she pressed her lips to his for a kiss. They kept the heat banked and just enjoyed the taste, the feel of each other and they way their kisses spoke of their connection.

After she lifted her head, he reflected, "Thought you might sleep a little longer."

She shrugged. "That is less appealing without you next to me."

That earned her another kiss in response.

"I like your father," she informed him, running her fingers lightly through his hair.

"He likes you back," Gibbs returned, stating the obvious.

She gave him a smile that was almost shy. "I am glad," she said simply.

After another quick kiss, she left Jethro to the dishes and headed upstairs to finish getting ready herself.

Pausing with one hand on the doorway between the kitchen and living room, she looked back at her lover over her shoulder.

"And Jethro?"

He paused mid-kitchen in the act of carrying their plates from the table to the sink. He glanced over at her, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"You are important to me, too," she revealed softly, a gentle, loving curve to her lips.

One of his rare full-blown smiles reached all the way to his glittering blue eyes.

And with that, she disappeared upstairs.

For the first time in his life, Gibbs smiled all the way through doing kitchen clean-up.

* * *

><p><em>Two hours later …<em>

Gibbs looked just ahead to where Ziva had her head tilted closely toward Jackson's, listening attentively to something he was saying. They paused to look over some fruit at one of the vendors Ziva especially liked. He saw her introduce Jackson to the woman and watched his father turn his easy charm on her.

An odd feeling had settled over Jethro during the last half-hour or so and he had fallen a little behind the other two. He couldn't put his finger on it at first, then it hit him.

He was jealous of his own father.

Given the demands of their respective jobs, the weekends held the most time for them to be together except when Gibbs' team had to work. Because of that, their weekends had become almost sacrosanct for Ziva and him. While they were around other people at the market on Saturdays and at the dojo that Ziva's uncle owned on Sundays, they remained wrapped in a cocoon of intimacy that left others on the outside to a degree.

Today there was a third person inside their togetherness and he wasn't adjusting very well. And, if he were honest, the fact that it was his father probably made him even more irritable.

As usual, he was carrying the bag that Ziva used for her purchases at the market. He told her it was so she had both hands free to do her shopping, but really it helped him feel a part of it – and there was that old-fashioned streak in him, too, of course. He saw his lover perusing the fruit with a practiced eye as she made decisions on what she wanted, and he figured he'd better catch up.

Her head was still tilted toward Jackson's and though she made no other sign that she was even aware of Jethro's close proximity, her right hand immediately reached back and took his left, lacing her fingers through his.

And just like that, his world righted again.

It was not the first time a sense of peace had settled over him at her mere touch, but this time he paid attention to it.

She … anchored him, he realized. Anchored him in the present. Anchored him in this place where he was content. No – more than content. It was a place where he felt happy. Really happy. He loved that about her.

Hell, he just plain loved her, he admitted to himself. Maybe he ought to find a way to tell her.

As Jackson paused in his talking to look over the fruit himself, Ziva looked back to throw Jethro a wink and a smile, giving an extra squeeze to his hand.

She caught the look in his eyes and her heart tripped, then started beating double time. Her brown eyes sparkled as her gaze locked with his and her smile grew more intimate, meant just for him.

For now, their wordless communication was enough.

They finished up their round at the market and Ziva only let go of Jethro's hand for one of them to pay for purchases until he opened the door to his truck for her to slide in to her middle spot on the bench seat.

The three of them made lunch at home. Afterwards, Jethro started to tell Ziva he'd be in the basement for a while. She stopped his words with her own.

"I know," she told him. "Time to work on your boat."

His smile and look were appreciative, as was the kiss he pressed to her forehead.

Jackson and Ziva chatted easily for a while around the kitchen table, each enjoying the other's company. Ziva got up to put a delicious-smelling concoction together in which to marinate the chicken they were grilling for dinner. She also started a blend of beans, vegetables and spices to simmer slowly for the afternoon to go along with the meat. She'd make a salad of some sort later to round out the meal.

The old man enjoyed watching her work and talking to her. There was just something about her to which he'd responded immediately; he already felt like he'd known her for years. And his son was happy for the first time in what seemed like forever and Jackson would have welcomed this woman with open arms for that reason alone.

After she'd finished her tasks for now, she poured them each a glass of iced tea and sat back down at the table with him.

"It sure is good to meet you, honey," Jackson said with a fond look. "I haven't seen Leroy this happy since …" He paused. "Well, a really long time ago."

"You are thinking of his first wife, yes?" Ziva offered quietly.

"You know about Shannon?" he asked.

"A little – and that he had a daughter," Ziva revealed.

"Leroy doesn't talk about them much," Jackson said with a trace of surprise.

"He mentioned that, as well," Ziva informed him with a small smile.

There was a lull in the conversation as they both sat lost in their own thoughts for a few moments.

"My son and I started butting heads as soon as he could walk and talk," Jackson admitted ruefully. "Reckon we're too much alike in some ways."

He looked down at the table as though it were a crystal ball through which he was looking at the past.

"It was easier when we had his mother and then Shannon with us," he shared. "Then I really blew it big time with Leroy, though I didn't mean to."

Ziva didn't intend to have a deep conversation about this, as it felt rather like prying without Jethro's permission. She trusted that he would share the details of his life in his own way, in his own time, even if she had to create the opening for him to do so now and then. But his father seemed to have something on his mind that he wanted to say and clearly needed someone to listen – and she wouldn't say anything to him that she wouldn't say directly to Jethro. She sat there silently, allowing him to decide whether he wanted to continue.

He took a while to choose his words, but for some reason he felt compelled to talk about this with Ziva.

"When I came to the funeral for Shannon and Kelly, I brought the lady friend I had at the time with me," he disclosed. He looked at Ziva with a trace of anguish in those blue eyes that were so like his son's. "Leroy felt like I was being disrespectful. I wasn't. I was just …" He shook his head, unable even after all these years to give voice to the devastation he'd felt back then, that they all had felt. "I needed all the support I could muster so I could hold myself together enough to be there for my son … Didn't turn out that way."

Ziva reached over and placed a hand over one of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Silence reigned in the kitchen for a moment.

"In the midst of great difficulty, we cannot always see all the sides to a situation," she observed quietly. "I won't pretend to know exactly what you all were going through, but in the mix of emotions Jethro was undoubtedly feeling, perhaps disrespect was one that made sense to him. I could also imagine it might have been difficult for him to see proof that your life had gone on after the loss of your wife when it felt like his whole world had just ended."

Jackson looked at her, startled.

"I never thought he might take it that way," Jackson admitted. He thought that over for a minute, then murmured, "Guess I should have done things differently."

She squeezed his hand again, trying to give what comfort she could.

"I am not saying you should have done anything differently – and I may not even be right about Jethro. After all, I wasn't there," she pointed out. "But I am saying that sometimes misunderstandings are about … perspective."

Jackson didn't say anything; he was afraid if he did, the tears in his eyes would spill over. He turned over the hand she was covering to grasp hers, communicating his thanks wordlessly.

She gave him a smile and one of those winks of hers and he found his equilibrium.

"My son is a lucky man," Jackson told her.

Her smile grew.

"Thank you," Ziva responded, leaning toward him. "But I believe I am the lucky one."

They shared a smile that spoke of the bond that was already forming between them.

"And now I think I will see if Jethro is ready for some tea," Ziva said and got up to pour him a glass of the cold beverage.

The old man watched her thoughtfully as she took the drink to the basement.

Ziva slipped quietly down the stairs, but Gibbs looked up as soon as her foot touched the top step. He tossed down the sander he'd been using.

She gave him a smile as she handed him the glass.

"I thought you might be getting thirsty down here," she told him.

He drained half the glass in one long drink.

"Guess you were right," he noted, looking down at the glass then up at her with one his characteristic half-smiles.

Satisfaction lit her gaze. He reached over and placed the glass on his worktable.

He tugged her in for a kiss using his hands on her shoulders, holding her body close to his. He then tucked her into him, her cheek on his chest and his resting on top of her head.

"Should I apologize for being grumpy about sharing you?" he asked, relaxing into her hold as her arms wrapped around her waist.

"Well," she drawled. "Not to me." He could hear the lightly teasing yet honest undertone in her voice and felt her cheek move against him as her lips curved.

He released a silent sigh. She was right.

"Leroy?" His dad's voice came from the top of the stairs.

"Right here, Jack," Gibbs responded.

Slowly the older man came down the first couple of steps, bending until he could look below the banister to see the couple standing together. Ziva unwrapped one arm from around Jethro in order to step to his side, leaving the other around his waist. One of Gibbs' arms stayed draped over her shoulder.

"Just wanted to let you know that Abby'll be picking me up soon. She and the nuns are bowling in a charity fundraiser today for a soup kitchen and last night when we all went out for dinner she invited me along to watch. I decided to take her up on it," the older man informed his son.

"Dad, you don't –" Jethro started to protest.

"I know," Jackson cut him off. "But that Abby is a sweetheart and it sounds like fun."

His eyes took on a definite twinkle.

"I'll be back for dinner though," he assured them. "I'll be darned if I'm missing out on Ziva's cooking. My mouth's already watering with what she's got started."

Jethro smirked as Ziva smiled with pleasure.

Gibbs looked down at Ziva. "Wanna see if Abby wants to stay for dinner?"

"Sure," she readily agreed. Then she added, "Why don't we see if the others want to come over, too? I think we have more chicken in the freezer."

Gibbs grinned inwardly at her easy use of the word "we."

"Can do that," he approved.

Just then the front door opened upstairs and Abby bounced into the house with an enthusiastic, "Hello?"

"Down here, Abbs," Gibbs called.

Almost immediately, a pair of saddle shoes appeared in their line of vision. She greeted Jackson, then stepped past him far enough to plop down on the steps so she could see the couple down below, as well.

"Hey, guys!" she greeted Gibbs and Ziva perkily.

She was wearing her bowling outfit of a white blouse paired with an old-fashioned poodle skirt and a sweater draped over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled up in a single ponytail in the back with a gauzy scarf tied around it.

"Hello, Abby," Ziva returned warmly. "Your outfit is very becoming."

"Thanks, Ziva," Abby beamed. "Hope you don't mind me borrowing Jackson here for a while. He's going to be our good luck charm today."

"Just have him back here in time for dinner," Gibbs directed her. "You wanna stay, too?"

"If it means I get to eat whatever smells so good up there," Abby cocked her head toward the first floor, "then count me in."

Ziva smiled her appreciation at Abby's compliment. "Perhaps you would call Kate, Ducky, Tim and Tony to see if they want to join us?"

Surprise flickered in Abby's eyes as she shot a look toward Gibbs, though she quickly masked it. Jethro gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

If anything, Abby's eyes got even brighter.

"Woohoo – party at the Bossman's!" she crowed enthusiastically. "What time should I tell them?"

They settled on a time by which Abby thought she and Jackson would be back. With goodbyes all around, she and Jackson were out the door.

Gibbs looked down at Ziva and pulled her back firmly and completely into his arms.

"Alone at last," he murmured, nuzzling her throat.

Her eyes took on a decidedly flirtatious glint.

"I like the sound of that," she admitted softly, running her hands sensuously up and down his back. "Whatever should we do with this unexpected time on our hands?"

She tilted her head to give him better access to her neck in an unspoken recommendation as to how she thought they could occupy themselves.

"Huh," Gibbs grunted. "All my ideas seem to involve the bedroom."

Ziva's light laugh managed to be both delighted and sexy.

"I have some ideas, too," she admitted with a devilish look, "But mine start right here ..." She pushed at his chest to move him until the backs of Jethro's knees touched the bench in front of his worktable. She then pushed down at his shoulders until he got the message to sit. She walked into him until he was lying along the bench and she was straddling him. "… and end up in the bedroom."

Her soft mouth came down and kissed the delighted grin right off his face. Her tongue slipped into his mouth to claim that space for herself and Gibbs promptly lost all capacity for any thought not centered on making love with the woman in his arms.

* * *

><p><em>Later…<em>

Ziva was in the kitchen finishing dinner preparations and Gibbs was getting ready to grill the chicken. Abby had not wasted any time getting on the phone to their friends and had called Gibbs just before her tournament started saying that everyone was in.

When they'd first come downstairs after moving their playtime to the bedroom, Ziva's mind was already completing the dinner menu in her head. When she wondered out loud about something simple for dessert - maybe ice cream, as it was an unseasonably hot fall day - Gibbs had offered to run to the store. Ziva tilted her head, clearing considering something about his offer.

Just then, Kate had called Gibbs' phone in order to talk to Ziva. She asked if there was anything she could bring tonight.

"I was just trying to decide if I could trust Jethro to get everything we would need to make ice cream sundaes," Ziva admitted to the other woman, eyeing Gibbs thoughtfully.

Kate had immediately insisted on stopping to get that stuff on her way there, so the ice cream was taken care of.

"Maybe I should make brownies to go with the sundaes," Ziva fretted after she'd hung up the phone.

"Just ice cream's good," Jethro put in. "Besides, you've cooked enough today; you don't need to take on more."

Something was unreadable in the gaze she dropped away from his.

Jethro walked over to her and looped his hands around her waist. Her hands came up to rest against his chest as he pressed his lips to her temple.

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?" he asked her softly. She shrugged slightly.

"I want everything to be right for dinner," she said somewhat evasively.

"There's more to it than that," he guessed. When she didn't speak up, he directed her gently, "Talk to me, Ziva."

"I just want …" She paused. "I just want your friends, your father to think you made a good choice in being with me." She laid her head against his chest.

His lips curved slightly against her hair and he gave her a squeeze.

"You've impressed them already." He pulled back far enough to look down into her face. "Even if they're not sure why you're with a grumpy old man like me."

"You are _not_ old, for the last time," she disagreed pointedly. Then her eyes took on a twinkle and she started to relax. "But you are grumpy sometimes."

He tickled her in retaliation and soon they were both laughing.

Settling down to nuzzle his face into her neck, he proposed, "I say we have ice cream for dessert and use any brownie-baking time for making out on the couch until they get here."

"Sold," she agreed, holding him tightly. "But first we get everything else ready."

He nodded reluctantly and let go of her after one last kiss.

It was too hot for a fire in the fireplace, so Gibbs had hauled his old grill out of the garage and had even managed to unearth a partial bag of charcoal and some lighter fluid. He walked back into the kitchen through the back door after starting the coals.

He looked at the table for four in his dining room area.

Turning to Ziva, he asked, "Where were you planning on seating everyone?"

Ziva was at the counter making a fatoush salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, onion and some kind of savory-smelling vinaigrette. At his words, she put down the knife in her hands and turned to look at the table, as well.

Oh. She had not thought that far.

"What do you normally do when you have them over?" she asked him, switching her gaze to him.

He shrugged lightly. "Never had them all over before – not all at once."

Ziva froze and then visibly paled. "Jethro, I am sor-"

In a heartbeat he was directly in front of her. He stopped her words by laying a forefinger gently against her lips.

"Don't apologize," he directed, looking into her expressive brown eyes. "It's good."

And it was. He enjoyed seeing her mixed in with his team. It felt … right.

Her eyes said she was still worried that she'd overstepped her bounds.

"It's good," he repeated and planted a soft kiss on her mouth.

She searched his blue gaze for any sign that he was being less-than-truthful. When she didn't find even a hint of that, she relaxed.

"Think I've got a card table around here somewhere," Gibbs thought out loud. "Let me look." He started out the doorway.

"If you need to, you could bring that bench up from the basement for us to sit on – only for us," Ziva suggested with a wink.

He smirked – and agreed with a tilt of his head.

He did indeed find his card table in the closet of an extra bedroom upstairs that actually didn't have a bed at all, but held a lot of odds and ends. He also found a couple of chairs to go with it and did end up snagging the bench from the basement to serve as seating for Ziva and him.

She asked about a tablecloth to lay across the two tables, but he gave her a dubious look. Ziva found a plain sheet in his linens and decided that would work. She folded it, then spread it across the two tables, effectively connecting them into one. The place settings followed in short order. A grin tugged at his lips as he watched her survey her handiwork with satisfaction.

The front door opened and Abby's voice called out, "We're back!"

Gibbs and Ziva turned toward the door. He stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders as they greeted his dad and favorite scientist.

"How was the bowling tournament?" Ziva asked with a smile.

"Great!" Abby answered enthusiastically. "Jackson here was indeed our good luck charm. The nuns already invited him back for next year." She winked at him.

"I'll be there," he responded with a grin. "Had fun. Our Abby is a good bowler – and you should see her glare at the pins that have the audacity to stay standing." His blue eyes twinkled merrily.

"I've got nothin' on Sister Rosita," Abby demurred. "One of our sponsors promised an extra $300 if she bowled a perfect game – and she did!"

"Congratulations, Abby," Ziva said. Turning her head to look up at Jethro, Ziva asked, "Did we make a donation?"

Again, he loved the natural way she coupled them together. And he didn't miss the knowing glance Abby shared with his dad at her easy use of the pronoun.

"Uh-huh," he answered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. Then he grinned down at her. "Well, I did – in your name."

She rolled her eyes at him and snorted out a chuckle.

"Don't worry, Ziva," Abby assured her. "I added his name beside yours." The triumphant grin she threw toward Gibbs had them all laughing.

"Something smells awfully good in here," Jackson said with an appreciative sniff.

"Thank you, Jackson," Ziva said, smiling. "We will eat after everyone gets here."

Just then the front door opened again and Ducky walked in, followed closely by Tim and then Tony.

"Okay, people," Tony called out. "The party can start now; I'm here – and I brought beer."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, while the others grinned at Tony's antics.

"We're not starting without Kate, Tony," Abby informed him firmly. She looked toward their hosts. "I thought she'd be here by now."

"She called and offered to pick up everything to make sundaes for dessert," Ziva shared. "I imagine she will be here soon."

"I said I would go," Gibbs reminded her.

"Yes, and then someone would have had to go back when you got irritated looking at all the choices for sauces and decided to leave without getting any," Ziva ribbed him, turning to wrap her arms around his waist.

The others looked at each other with surprise at her warmly teasing words, which morphed into laughter at his response.

He grinned down at her and pulled her in closer. "Probably," he agreed.

"I'll just check on Kate," Abby said, pulling out her phone and stepping a few feet away.

She sent Kate a text. _OMG – wait 'til you see Gibbs with Ziva. They're so CUTE! You almost here?_

Kate responded almost immediately. _In check-out line. Can't wait. :)_

Abby advised the others of Kate's status and Ziva went into the kitchen to check on dinner with a directive to Gibbs to get everyone something to drink.

Again, his team was floored at the easy familiarity between them. They'd been around the couple several times, but this was the first time they'd seen the full extent of just how much of a unit the two had become.

Kate arrived shortly after. Once the dessert fixings had been stowed on the counter or in the freezer, they all sat down to eat together. Dinner was delicious and everyone told Ziva so. She smiled with pleasure even as she pressed her side against Jethro's as though unconsciously sharing the thanks with him. The conversation was light and for once they were simply friends gathered around for the pleasure of being together, not because they wanted to debrief or de-stress after a case or because someone needed to talk.

"Ya know, Boss," Tony began, "it's taken you long enough to have us all over. I'm just sayin'…" He looked back at Gibbs' stare with false bravado.

Gibbs relented and wrapped an arm around Ziva's waist where she sat close by next to him on the bench.

"You should be glad I waited for Ziva to be around, DiNozzo," Gibbs pointed out. "She's a helluva lot better cook than I am."

He looked down at her with that half-smile tugging at his lips. She threw him a rueful look that said _Ummm … this is my fault_. His smile never faltered and he squeezed her in to press a brief kiss to the side of her head. She leaned her head against his shoulder before looking up at him.

"You grilled the chicken," she pointed out, "and it was very good."

Ducky smiled at her instant support of Jethro. She was apparently even willing to defend the man against himself if necessary.

"Yeah, after you had it soaking in something all day," Gibbs pointed out, refusing to take credit for a bigger role than he'd actually had.

They all began clearing the table. Ziva instructed them to simply put the dishes on the counter and she and Gibbs would do them later. She shooed them all into the living room with a suggestion that everyone take a drink with them. She started coffee, figuring Jethro would want some at the very least. Then, the sight of the dishes got the better of her and she decided to load the dishwasher while the coffee was brewing.

When she didn't follow them into the living room, she heard Gibbs call, "Ziva?"

"Be there in a minute," she answered.

When a minute turned into a few, he came looking for her.

"Thought we were going to do those later," he commented, nodding his head toward the nearly-empty sink.

She shrugged. "I just decided I would do them while the coffee was brewing. You know how I generally like to do them right away because I might not want to do them later."

He was standing right behind her now with a hand on her shoulder. She tossed him up a flirtatious wink. "Whenever you're around, I always seem to find something better to do." The heated twinkle in her eyes said that "something better" usually involved getting her hands all over him instead of the dishes.

He grinned and shifted his hands until they were wrapped around her waist. Pressing a kiss to her neck, he said, "Huh. I seem to have the same problem – though it doesn't exactly feel like a problem."

She laughed lightly and turned in his arms. Her hands clasped behind his neck and she smiled up at him.

"True," she agreed. He bent his head to kiss her and she met him more than halfway.

"You guys need any – Oh. Sorry!" Abby's voice pulled them apart. They looked over at the doorway to find Kate and her standing there, grinning from ear to ear.

"We just thought we'd see if we could help, but you clearly have things in hand," Kate observed with a warm twinkle in her eye.

Both she and Abby couldn't have been more thrilled for a glimpse of this side of the connection between Ziva and Gibbs, even if they were a little floored at the apparent lack of any emotional barrier between them. Even with the team, there were parts of Gibbs that he kept back from them … but their impression was that that didn't seem to apply to Ziva.

"You could see if anyone wants coffee, if you like," Ziva said. "It is nearly ready." She gave Jethro an affectionate pat on his chest and moved to grab him a coffee mug. He finished up putting the few dishes left into the dishwasher.

The rest of the evening passed as enjoyably as it had begun. Ducky started the exodus a while later, and the others quickly agreed it was time to go. After Gibbs and Ziva had waved them off, Jackson said goodnight with a kiss on the cheek for Ziva.

They spent much of Sunday with Jackson, before he headed back to Stillwater that afternoon. As he was loading up his truck, Ziva noticed he hadn't grabbed the care package of food she was sending back with him for his dinner, and she went back into the house to get it.

Jackson looked at his son. "She's a keeper."

Jethro's half-smile tugged at his mouth.

A shadow passed through the older man's eyes and he was clearly trying to decide how to say something. Gibbs was pretty sure he didn't want to hear it, but he waited him out.

"You know, Leroy," Jackson began softly, "I didn't mean to upset you all those years ago. I just …" He couldn't find the words, so he settled for, "I just didn't mean to."

Gibbs looked at the older man silently for a long moment. Something shifted inside him. "I know, Dad."

"Shannon would want you to be happy, son. You haven't been since you lost her and Kelly, not really, until now," Jackson told him. "But she'd want you to be."

Just then Ziva came back out with the bag she'd packed for him. Some part of Jethro appreciated the words, but he was thankful he didn't have to respond to them.

Jack wrapped Ziva in a hug, which she returned with a kiss pressed to his cheek. Gibbs gave his dad a hug goodbye and held on just a little longer than usual. After extracting a promise from his son that he'd bring Ziva up to Stillwater sometime soon, Jackson was on his way and the couple enjoyed what was left of the weekend just being together.


	13. The L Word

_A/N:__ This chapter comes with a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout to boymommytotwo. Hopefully this "feel good" chapter is just what the doctor ordered for you, my friend. Thanks for being patient as I battle against this icky sickness. =)_

_BIG "thank you" hug to my girl iyimgrace for the new "My Girl" avatar. Love it! :D_

_This is the first of three chapters that will cover Gibbs and Ziva's weekend away, with each one taking them successively emotionally deeper. I hope you enjoy how their relationship evolves here; I really do. As always, thanks for reading and I'd love to hear what you think. :)_

* * *

><p>The rest of the week passed quickly. Before they knew it, Friday morning arrived sunny and clear, an auspicious beginning to their long weekend away. Ziva still had very little information about the trip. Gibbs hadn't caved on keeping the details secret, no matter how much she'd badgered, bribed or seduced him – not that he hadn't enjoyed the seducing part.<p>

During one of her efforts, she'd pointed out that she needed to know what kind of clothes to pack or else he couldn't complain when she packed enough to be ready for anything. He'd gotten that heated look in his eyes that made her stomach drop, then suggested she might not need any. This week he'd finally relented enough to tell her to pack casually and that she might want to include her hiking shoes.

Unbeknownst to him, she also tucked in a couple of short, sexy nighties that would hopefully have nothing to do with sleeping.

Ziva worked until close on Thursday night since others were working extra hours while she was gone. She drove to Gibbs' house that night and they loaded up Friday morning. At his suggestion, they packed a cooler with some basics to take with them, including coffee and cinnamon, of course.

In under half an hour, they crossed into Virginia. Ziva smiled and looked adoringly up at Jethro as she spotted the familiar "Virginia Is For Lovers" motto.

"We certainly are that," she murmured, earning her a quick peck on her upturned lips.

They drove for about two hours total until they reached Page County in the Blue Ridge Mountains near the Shenandoah River. Ziva marveled at the breathtaking views along the way.

Gibbs pulled out directions to their specific location and put Ziva in charge of reading them to him. They passed through a quaint small town and drove up higher into the mountains on a winding road through a heavily wooded area. They passed houses, but they were spread out, yielding more than a fair amount of privacy for each.

When they made the final turn onto a long drive, Jethro slowly drove the truck down the gravel lane, flicking a glance in Ziva's direction as often as he could, watching her face. She was clearly excited and kept commenting on how beautiful it was here.

The driveway ended in a clearing that housed a two-story log cabin – well, more like a house. Ziva stared at the place as he parked, clearly dumbfounded. She was sitting right next to him on the bench seat, as usual, and started to practically climb over him in an effort to get out of the vehicle and into that cabin.

He grinned and climbed out, holding the door for her. She took a step toward the place, then remembered their bags. She turned back to help, but Jethro just handed her a set of keys and told her to go on in, that he'd bring the stuff. She was too excited to do anything else but exactly that. She snatched the keys and took a step away, then she turned back and yanked him down to place a big smacking kiss on his lips before hurrying into the cabin.

She left the door open as she stepped inside and marveled at the largely open floor plan on this level that included a kitchen, dining table, and living room area complete with fireplace. There were two bedrooms tucked in the back that were connected by a bathroom. One wall was all glass and she could see a lake on the other side.

There was a set of wooden stairs leading to the upper floor and she practically ran up them. At the top she found a large, loft-style bedroom that had its own fireplace and bathroom, as well as a magnificent view. Hurrying to the wall of glass up here, she pulled the sliding glass door open and stepped onto a deck that seemed to hang in midair. Walking to the railing, she looked down on a lake with clear, rippling water. All she could hear were the sounds of nature.

As she absorbed her surroundings, her mind replayed their conversation from when they'd gone for a hike and a picnic that first weekend they'd spent together. She'd mentioned that she'd always wanted to stay in a cabin with a view of the forest and water … and he'd found it for her. She blinked back happy tears and her heart felt so full of emotion that it was a wonder her chest could hold it.

Hearing him on the steps inside, she turned and braced her hands on the railing on either side of her as she watched him reach the bedroom. He had that half-smile on his face that just made her melt as he found her with his eyes.

Pushing herself off the railing, she ran and flung herself into his arms, loving the way he instinctively caught her. He chuckled lightly.

"Guess you like the place," he observed.

She nodded, unable to speak at first. For a long moment, she just held onto him tightly, communicating without words.

"Jethro?" she husked.

"Hmmmm?" he drawled, fully enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

She cleared her throat gently.

"Theoretically speaking …" she began slowly in a voice he almost had to strain to hear, "how freaked out would you be if I admitted that I am completely in love with you?"

She knew he cared about her, but just didn't know if he was ready to hear the true depth of her feelings for him. She squeezed him even more tightly and tucked her chin closer to his shoulder, as though she were afraid he'd try to put her away from him at her words.

If anything, he hugged her closer.

"Oh, I'd be too busy sayin' it back to be freaked out at all," he informed her.

She pulled back far enough to look into his eyes, hope brimming in hers.

"Truth?" she whispered.

"Try me," he said with that characteristic smile of his, leaning forward until her feet touched the floor, but not letting go of her even one little bit.

Raising a hand to his cheek, she looked into those brilliant blue eyes and said, "I love you. It feels like I have since the moment we met." Her tone was soft, but left no room for doubt.

"I love you, too," he told her, his gaze saying even more.

A beautiful smile slowly spread across her face, drawing an answering one from him.

With a joyful noise, she jumped up again, throwing her arms around his neck. She hugged him closely, as closely as she possibly could, then brought her lips to his in a kiss that went on forever and spoke from her soul to his.

"You are amazing," she murmured after they came up for air. Releasing a happy sigh, she added, "And I could kiss you for hours."

"Let's try that," he suggested with heated look.

He swept her up into his arms bridal style and carried her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he immediately followed and she pulled him to her.

Without hurry, they divested each other of their clothing and made love slowly, deeply, intimately. The only sounds to be heard were murmurs of love and moans of pleasure. At last he rose above her and she welcomed him inside, wrapping her arms and legs around him securely. It wasn't long before she reached her climax, pulling him over with her.

Afterwards they lay tangled together, still connected, his head pillowed on her breasts. As their hearts slowed, her hands trailed lightly over every inch of him that she could reach and her eyes roamed the room.

The whole place had a warm, delightful, peaceful atmosphere to it. The woods and colors chosen for the walls, floors, ceilings and furnishings complimented that perfectly. There were framed pictures up here and downstairs that had clearly been taken by someone with an eye and an affinity for the beauty to be found outdoors around the cabin.

"It feels like there has been a lot of love in this place and that it has been here for a while," Ziva murmured, eventually breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you know anything about it?"

"Navy guy built it himself for his wife, family," he mumbled against her skin without opening his eyes or moving a muscle, completely content to stay exactly where he was for as long as possible. "She passed away a few years ago and he hasn't been back since. His kids talked him into letting them do some updates and renting the place out, but he's choosy about who stays. I spoke to him on the phone; guess he approved." A faint smile tugged at his lips.

"How did you find it?' she asked him curiously.

"Travel agent," he responded, still without moving.

"It's so perfect …" she whispered, "exactly what I always pictured."

She dropped a kiss to the top of his head, then spoke against his hair. "And you remembered."

She felt him smile against her breasts. "You sound surprised."

"Not surprised exactly. It's just …" she said slowly, "we only talked about this once and I can't believe that you actually found something."

He shrugged. "Just told the agent what I was looking for and she kept searching until I thought it was right."

"She?" Ziva snorted. "I'll bet she kept looking. After one glance at your dreamy face and those incredible blue eyes, she probably nearly fell over herself trying to help you."

He grinned and tilted his head to look up at her. "She did hint that she'd always wanted to see this part of the Blue Ridge Mountains." The light in his eyes was wickedly teasing.

Ziva narrowed her eyes and practically growled. Rolling him onto his back she rose over him on stiff arms. "You are mine."

"Got that right," he agreed with a smile tugging at both corners of his mouth.

That mollified her enough that she allowed him to pull her down for another series of deep, slow, heart-stopping kisses.

After a long while, they left the bed and settled their things. Through the travel agent, he'd arranged for the caretakers to put a few things in the refrigerator; that, along with what they had in the cooler, would hold them for today. He told Ziva there was supposedly a small store in town where they could get the rest of what they wanted for the weekend.

They went for a hike that afternoon around the lake. Climbing up to the top of a hill on the other side, they were met with a breathtaking view of the Shenandoah River. They stood wrapped in each other's arms, her head against his shoulder and his chin resting on her hair as they enjoyed the sight before them and just being together.

The weekend was all they could have wished it to be. While it was a little too chilly for swimming this time of year, they did take a canoe out on the lake. They hiked for miles and came home to fix dinner and relax in front of one of the fireplaces. They made love – a lot.

There was no TV and they both had their phones turned off. Except for the trip into town to get a few more groceries, they didn't run into another person the whole weekend, which just made things all the more perfect as far as they both were concerned.


	14. Going Deeper

_Two days later ..._

Sunday night found them on the floor in front of the living room fireplace in the cabin, the flames crackling merrily. The weather had been perfect this weekend. The days were warm enough to hike in shirtsleeves, while the nights were cool enough for sweatshirts and a fire.

Ziva was leaning back against the couch and Jethro was lying with his head pillowed on her lap. His eyes were closed, but she couldn't take hers off him. She slowly ran her fingers through his dark and silver hair, admiring the play of the firelight on the surprisingly soft strands. Her other hand was clasped in one of his, resting on his chest. A sigh of contentment left her lips.

A ghost of a smile curved his lips. "You sound happy," he murmured.

"That would be because I am," she answered with a smile of her own. "You?"

"Mmmm," he agreed.

It had taken him a couple of days to completely shake off the inherent tension resulting from his work week, but he was finally completely relaxed. She loved seeing him this way.

"In fact, I have never been this happy in my entire life," she confided.

He squeezed her hand in acknowledgement.

"That is not true for you, though, is it?" she asked softly, not missing a beat with combing her fingers through his hair. There was not a trace of sadness or bitterness in her tone.

He stilled, then slowly opened his eyes and turned his head to look up at her. The curve of her lips remained as open and easy as it had been a moment ago.

"Not … exactly," he admitted haltingly. "But only once before … a long time ago."

"Will you tell me something about them?" she asked gently. "Your first wife and your daughter?"

His heart began to thud. He wasn't sure where the question was coming from, but there were two things of which he was certain: he didn't want to hurt her and it was hard to overcome his usual reticence to talk about it.

"Why?" he finally managed.

"Because they are part of who you are," Ziva revealed, "an important part."

He continued to look at her for a moment, trying to fight the knee-jerk reaction he had to run from any discussion about Shannon and Kelly.

She looked back at him with understanding in her eyes. "I am not suddenly going to start asking you to talk about them all the time, but I also do not want you to think you have to keep them in some box that you never open in front of me – not on my account, anyway."

She paused for a moment, then continued.

"I know it is difficult. After my father was killed, I could not bear to talk about him or hear anyone else do so. I would literally leave the room the minute someone mentioned his name. I suppose I was trying to hurt less by acting almost as though it had never happened, but it wasn't working that way. In fact, it kept hurting just as badly every time someone would bring him up, like ripping off a bandage." Ziva paused, staring into the fire, her mind clearly in the past.

"Tali was just a baby when he died and when she got old enough to ask questions about what he was like, I still couldn't talk about him. I am not sure who was hurt more by that – Tali or me." There was another pause before she continued, but she still never ceased running her fingers through his hair.

"One day my mother sat me down and said that talking about his death was hard, but not talking about the good memories did not honor my father's life or his love for his family and that he was a good man who did not deserve to be erased as though he had not existed at all. She also pointed out that the only other person in the world who knew what it was like to be his daughter besides Tali was me … and that Tali deserved to know that part of him." Her voice had gotten more emotional as she talked, and she cleared it gently before finishing. "She was right. And it turned out that once I stopped refusing to ever talk about him, the pain of doing so lessened and I could eventually even smile about the happy memories. That is how it worked for me, anyway."

Ziva dipped her chin to look into Jethro's face with a faint but tender curve to her lips.

"You know, it does not surprise me that someone loved you, Jethro," she reassured him gently, brushing the back of her fingers soothingly against his cheek, "maybe even as much as I do."

Then her gaze turned into mock consideration, her brows drawn as though she were thinking. "Well, almost as much. I do not think anyone else can love you quite that much – no offense intended." Her eyes teased him a little, and something in him shifted as he huffed out a chuckle. She could literally feel the tension that had gripped him at her question begin to seep from his body and was glad for it.

He unconsciously pressed his cheek and shoulders more into her body.

"It also does not bother me that you loved someone else," she continued even more softly. "You have a great capacity for that, even if not everyone is privileged enough to see it. I would be more surprised if you hadn't."

He turned his face into her belly and wrapped his arms around her. She cradled him close to her.

"Will you say their names to me?" she prodded oh-so-gently.

"Kelly was my daughter's name," he said quietly after a moment, his voice a little hoarse at first. "Shannon was my wife."

She squeezed him and pressed a kiss to his head, grateful beyond belief that he'd responded.

"Tell me one of your favorite things about each of them," she suggested.

He took long enough to respond that she started to get a little nervous that she'd gone too far. However, she didn't want his life with Shannon and Kelly to be something he felt like he couldn't talk to her about or could never mention out loud. She wanted to slay that demon once and for all.

"The way Kelly would run and jump on me when I got home from being deployed," he finally said so softly that she had to strain to hear. "Shannon's smile … her whole face would smile when she did."

And then … he said more. He wasn't very wordy about it and he had stops and starts, but she just listened and held him, asking a question here and there. He found himself thinking of little things he hadn't thought of years, even things that made him smile – and her, too. And she didn't miss the special inflection in his voice when he talked about his daughter.

"… and Shannon could yell at both of us from across the room with just her eyes," he remembered. He looked up at her. "You can do that, too."

Her brown eyes twinkled. "It is a very handy skill – especially with stubborn Marines."

He smirked.

Then his face grew earnestly serious. God, he wasn't good at this, but he wanted to make sure she knew something. "I'm not the same guy I was back then, so things are different with you, but not … less."

She would swear her heart turned over in her chest. She blinked back sudden moisture in her eyes and smiled tenderly at him. Leaning down, she captured his lips in a soft, clinging kiss.

"Thank you for saying that," she whispered, rubbing her nose against his.

He shrugged as he buried his face in her chest. "'s true."

In fact, if he were completely honest, his relationship with Ziva could turn out to be even more in some ways, simply because time had been cut unfairly short before and he had now learned not to take anything for granted. However, he couldn't bring himself to say that out loud. There was a sense of betrayal in thinking that, even though his rational mind knew no one else would see it that way, least of all Shannon.

"And your ex-wives?" she asked, hesitantly. He knew what she meant.

"Not the same as then – or now," he answered haltingly, forcing the words. "But all kinda the same in some ways."

"How?" she asked curiously.

"Well, they all had red hair," he answered, seemingly inanely.

In his mind, he willed her to understand the deeper layer of meaning to that observation, because he just couldn't say it. She was quiet as she sat in thought, then it clicked for her.

"Did Shannon have red hair?" she inquired cautiously.

He nodded, his head still buried against her.

Ah.

They sat in silence for a while. Ziva's eyes had reverted to the fire.

"Why did you get married three more times?" she asked without a hint of censure.

He shrugged, saying more in that gesture than he realized.

"They seemed to want to," he divulged. "And I liked them."

"Were you in love with them?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Thought that wouldn't happen again."

She reflected on what he'd said so far for a moment.

"Since you never expected to find again what you had with Shannon, perhaps on some level getting married did not really matter one way or the other. In some respects, it did not really change anything in those relationships." Her tone was thoughtful, not judgmental.

She brought him up short for a moment, but then he realized she had captured it perfectly. Leave it to her to say out loud something he hadn't yet figured out for himself.

"Never thought about that," he admitted.

"Jethro, you _have _noticed that I do not have red hair, yes?" she wondered out loud, looking at him for confirmation.

"I noticed," he smiled, reaching up to touch her long tresses. "Love your hair."

That earned him another soft kiss.

"Tell me one other thing that is different with me besides my hair," she requested, laying her cheek on his head. "And then I will stop asking you questions."

She felt his lips curve against her. "Promise?" he mumbled, but she could hear the good-natured banter in his tone.

"Promise," she smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

He thought for a second, then looked up at her with faint humor in his eyes. "Your mother likes me."

She snorted. "My mother loves you. In fact, I am fairly certain that if she ever had to pick between the two of us, you would win."

He couldn't help it. He grinned.

"Shannon's mother did not like you?" she asked indignantly, like she was ready to charge into battle for him. He loved that about her.

"She did at first," he shared. "But it was hard on her when we moved to where I was stationed." A shadow moved across his eyes, and she didn't think it was just about that. She was right. "And she was angry that I wasn't here to protect them … when they needed it."

Emotionally, he drew in on himself, but he didn't withdraw from her physically.

"And so were you," she guessed softly, cradling his head in her hand.

He didn't say anything at first, but his arms tightened around her and he buried his face against her again.

"You want to know what happened," he said, but there was no censure in his voice.

She nodded. "But I said I wouldn't ask you any more questions and I won't," she replied, her tone echoing the tender smile curving her lips.

She felt a sigh leave his chest … and in as few words as possible, he told her. She closed her eyes against the pain she knew would be reflected there for all three of them.

There was silence as they just held onto each other for a while. He decided to tell her all of it.

"I shot him," he said in a low tone.

She stilled. "The man who was responsible."

He nodded.

"Good," she said with feeling, her eyes flashing.

She surprised him with that reaction and she could see it in his eyes as he looked up at her.

"I would want to do the same thing if that happened to you," she admitted, a fiercely protective look in her gaze.

Then her gaze gentled and she lightly traced her fingertips over his features. "I wish you had been spared such pain. If I could turn back time and give them back to you, I would do it," she told him in a voice gone husky with emotion.

"But that would mean –" He broke off his thought abruptly.

"I know what it would mean, Jethro." A sad smile touched her features.

He was staggered by her selfless comment.

"Do not ask me how that is true while, at the same time, I cannot be sorry that we have a chance to be together." She gave a light, self-deprecating shrug as though she didn't know what else to say. She wouldn't look at him directly, but he could see that just a trace of the sadness was still in her eyes.

"I'm not sorry either," he told her quietly in a voice that had her blinking back tears.

"Do you mean that?" she husked, looking at him once more.

He nodded. Relief lit her gaze, followed quickly by tenderness.

"I love you so much," she whispered emotionally.

"Same here," he returned, raising a hand to pull her forward to place a soft kiss on her lips.

One kiss turned into several, then Ziva cradled him to her lovingly. She leaned her head back against the couch and combed her fingers through his hair once more, gently massaging his scalp. She allowed her mind to wander, but was not really thinking about anything in particular. Her eyes drifted closed.

From out of nowhere her mind created a picture, a vision that seemed so real that it took hold of her … in the space of a heartbeat, she wanted it to be real, yearned for it, craved it. She opened her eyes and looked down at him.

Feeling her gaze, he looked up at her and was arrested by the look in her eyes.

"Ziva?"

She shook her head and pulled him up to kiss him almost desperately. He tried to talk again, but she shushed him.

"Just kiss me. Please." She didn't care that she was begging, she just needed him – and didn't think she could tell him what was on her mind.

She pulled him to her mouth again and he rose up on one hand, burying the other in her hair. The kiss they shared went on and on. She moved out from beneath him and lay half on top of him, her hands and her mouth inflaming him.

His eyes darkened with desire and her mouth moved to his throat until he pulled her back up to kiss her again. She hummed with pleasure as his tongue slipped in between her lips to claim her mouth. Heart rates sped up as hands started to wander and their kisses grew hungrier.

"I need you," she breathed, clinging to him like a drowning woman. "Right here. Right now."

"You have me," he assured her, rolling her over beneath him to rest on the thick soft rug in front of the fireplace, slanting his mouth across her cheek and down her neck.

They quickly stripped off each other's clothing until there was nothing between them.

Their lovemaking was fast but tender and hot and just a little bit desperate all at the same time. When he settled between her legs, he slid his forearms under her shoulders to cup her head.

"I love you," he told her, willing her to understand just how much, how deeply.

"Never stop. Please." She wrapped her arms like silken ropes around his neck, her gaze clinging to his.

"I won't," he promised looking into her eyes, then he pushed inside her, making them one.

Her breath caught, then released in that sound that had driven him crazy since the first night they'd made out on her couch. Moving together, faster and faster, they reached a glorious, powerful climax at the same time, calling for each other. And while they had each been whole without the other, they somehow found completion in the answering.


	15. Forever In Her Eyes

_For iyimgrace ... from your ever-lovin' GOVI. :D xoxoxo_

* * *

><p><em>Previously in Brewed Awakenings…<em>

_Her breath caught, then released in that sound that had driven him crazy since the first night they'd made out on her couch. Moving together, faster and faster, they reached a glorious, powerful climax at the same time, calling for each other. And while they had each been whole without the other, they somehow found completion in the answering._

Gibbs melted down onto Ziva, his face tucked into her neck. They lay just like that until they could breathe somewhat normally again. Then he rolled to his side, taking her with him, managing somehow to keep them joined. She snuggled into him.

When the fire started to die and their bodies started to cool, he pulled out of her with a gush of fluid that made her whimper. She protested when she felt him start to move from her, but he soothed her with a kiss and told her he was just fixing the fire and getting a blanket.

He grabbed the cover first and laid it over her so she wouldn't be cold. He also tossed down a pillow from the couch for their heads. Ziva settled it where they needed it and turned on her side to watch him stoke the fire. Unbidden, that image she'd had before they'd made love filled her mind once more.

Gibbs finished with the fire and shifted to come back to her. He caught that look of longing in her eyes again before he moved to lay behind her. He cuddled up against her back and draped his arm over her middle. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, her neck.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he requested softly.

"What makes you say I am thinking of anything in particular?" she asked evasively.

"The look on your face," he told her. "You had the same look earlier."

She stayed silent. He didn't miss the slight tension that gripped her. _Interesting._

"So, it's okay for you to get me to talk, but not the other way around?" He smiled into her hair, taking any sting out of his words.

She nodded with the faintest twitch of her lips, making him grin.

He pressed a kiss to her head. "Please?" he asked quietly, his mouth still against her.

Ziva sat up, braced on one straight arm, her palm flat on the floor. She held the blanket to her chest, almost in some unconscious measure of protection. He followed her up, curving against her back, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. His arm tightened around her waist, reassuring her he was right there.

"If I say it out loud, I might want it even more," she explained softly. "And you might love me –"

"Do," he interrupted firmly. "Do love you."

She squeezed his arm in appreciation of his certainty.

"But you still might not ever want to hear what I was thinking," she revealed. "And in some ways, I could not blame you … not after all you've been through, after all you've lost."

The only sounds in the room for a long minute came from the crackling fire.

"Won't know until you tell me," he pointed out gently.

She waited, gathering her courage.

"My mind was just wandering earlier, not really thinking about anything, when I got this picture in my head." She stopped.

"Go on," he urged, pressing another kiss to her head.

She debated internally for a moment. True, she had initiated their sharing earlier, but most of that had required more effort from him. Maybe it was her turn, even if she felt more vulnerable than she liked over this particular subject. Besides, perhaps it was better if she knew his reaction, not just guessed at it.

"We were here, in this cabin, and you were building a fire," she continued slowly, "but it must have been in the future because …"

This time he nudged her forward without words, just with a squeeze of his arm and a nuzzle of her neck.

"I was sitting on the couch waiting for you." She stopped again, then forced herself to keep going. "_We_ were waiting for you."

He stilled.

"We?"

She nodded. Something pushed her to finish.

"I was holding a baby," she said softly, the hand at her chest curving over her heart as though she could feel the infant there. She turned her head to look into his eyes, clearly bracing for his response. "_Our_ baby, Jethro."

He reeled – and she could see it.

She turned her face away, dropping her chin.

Gibbs' mind was immediately filled with the same image and his pulse raced. He loved her – he did. But he was so out of the habit of thinking about the future, of expecting to be truly happy, that he'd stayed in the here and now. But her words suddenly propelled him into the future.

Cautiously, he opened his mind to the possibility she'd given him. To his surprise, he didn't shut down. Instead, a myriad of emotions rolled through him in quick succession. Once the blood stopped swooshing in his ears and his heart slowed from a frantic gallop to a steady pounding, he realized he felt … Amazed. Elated. Loved. Wanted. He wanted.

Time slowed to a crawl for Ziva as she waited for him to say something – anything. She had her eyes squeezed tightly shut, trying to keep the tears at bay. Already she knew she wanted everything with him, but she'd been honest; if he didn't want more children, she couldn't blame him for that. However, that didn't mean her heart wasn't breaking a little – or a lot – right at this moment.

_Get a grip, Ziva_ she told herself firmly. _You've known the man three months._

That didn't seem to matter.

She rubbed his forearm soothingly, then tried to speak.

"It's all right," she told him, her voice a raw whisper that made his throat ache with emotion. "Just forget –" Her voice broke and she couldn't go on. Despite her efforts to the contrary, a tear slid down her cheek.

She patted his arm in a friendly manner and tried to move. He held her in place, as his head tried to catch up with his heart.

"Let me up, Jethro," she whispered.

"Don't want to," he husked. "Please don't make me."

A sob broke free from her chest.

"I just need a minute," she tried to explain in that hoarse whisper, hanging on by her fingernails.

His right arm left her middle, only to have that hand come up to cup her cheek, turning her face toward his. She closed her eyes and ducked her chin. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"So do I," he admitted, "but want you next to me for mine."

_Oh, God._ Did he have to be so damn adorable, so … so _himself_ right now? How was she supposed to get a grip? Another sob broke free before she could swallow it and he wrapped both arms around her, cradling her into him.

After a moment of just holding her, of allowing himself to believe that he could share her vision, he tilted her head back and caught her slow, silent tears with his mouth, brushing his lips over her cheeks.

"Don't cry," he directed softly.

His gentle tone only made more tears fall, though she really tried to stop them.

"I'm not," she lied. "I just –"

"Need a minute," he finished when she stopped, his lips curving against her skin.

Something between a sob and a chuckle left her throat. She laid her forehead against his neck and nodded her head.

After taking that minute, she released a soundless sigh and finally relaxed into him, slowly reining in her whirling emotions.

"There you are," he murmured warmly, dipping his head to press his lips against her forehead.

Her brow wrinkled a bit in confusion, but she didn't move.

"I have been right here," she pointed out, her voice still a little thicker than normal.

"Physically," he agreed perceptively.

"I am sor-" she started.

He laid a finger across her soft lips to shush her.

Then he cupped her cheek in his strong hand again, his long fingers tunneling into her dark locks, her hair falling like a curtain of silk over his arm.

She allowed him to tilt her face back far enough to look into it. It saddened him to see the faint shadow still in her eyes, the shadow he had put there.

"Don't ever be sorry for being able to see a future for us," he told her firmly but tenderly. He looked into her eyes for a long moment. "Just because I stopped thinking that way about two decades ago doesn't mean you shouldn't imagine what it could be like." He smoothed a thumb over her cheek and gave her the self-deprecating version of his half smile. "Just means I'm out of practice."

"At what?" she prodded quietly.

"Dreaming," he answered in a voice so soft she had to strain to hear. "Hoping, I guess. Anything more than just being."

She tightened her arms around him, her heart hurting more for him than for herself at his words.

"I would like to live life with you, Jethro, not just be," Ziva told him softly, dropping her guard and gazing openly, earnestly into his eyes. "I want you to be with me because it matters to you whether I am or not. If you even think you can get to that point, I will wait for you as long as it takes."

The space of a few heartbeats that followed was perhaps the longest few seconds of Ziva's life, though the loving look that stayed in his eyes kept her grounded here with him.

"I'm there," he admitted quietly. "You just might have to be patient with me while I get used to it again – or kick me in the ass."

A ghost of a smile curved her own lips as she melted into him, relieved beyond belief that they were slowly negotiating this potential emotional mine field.

"Whatever you need," she promised with a cheeky undertone.

The twinkle in his eyes shifted to not only showing the love he felt for her, but also the depth of those feelings, turning his eyes to a brilliant blue.

"Need you, Ziva," he said seriously. "Need you."

"You have me," she swore, echoing his words from earlier, her eyes never wavering from his. She raised her fingers to his face, tracing his beloved features lightly.

"Remember that sentence I never finished the first night we had dinner at my apartment?"

He nodded, unable to look away from her.

"What I didn't say is that I feel like I have been waiting for you my whole life," she revealed.

Closing his eyes in gratitude, he rested his forehead against hers. He didn't deserve her, but it looked like he got to keep her anyway.

"Told you I thought I'd want to hear that sentence," he husked, tightening his arms around her.

Gibbs gently laid her back against the rug, balancing himself on one elbow, slightly above her. Her eyes skittered away from his for a moment as she considered that, as much as he'd said, he still hadn't responded to her image of holding their baby in her arms. If she'd looked at him, she'd have seen that his eyes weren't on hers anyway. They were following his right hand down her body.

"You know," he began quietly, almost conversationally, "most people get one lifetime." He paused as his hand came to rest flat on her belly over the blanket. He stared at it as though he could already see his child growing there. "But it looks like maybe I get three."

"What do you mean?" she whispered, still not looking at him.

"One that ended twenty years ago …" he started, "one where I was just kind of going through the motions …"

He paused until she looked back at him cautiously. He snagged her eyes with his, leaving the delicious pressure of his palm against her abdomen.

"And one that started the day I met you," he finished, his voice quiet but certain.

Tears of emotion stung her eyes again, but her gaze clung to his. She was afraid to hope for it all, but wanted to so badly.

He looked back down at her belly and rubbed his hand soothingly over it.

"I like your picture," he husked.

Her breath caught.

"You … do?" she whispered, that hope burgeoning in her eyes.

He looked back up at her with a gentle half-smile curving his lips, a smile that reached all the way to his incredible blue eyes.

"Yeah, I do," he confirmed.

Disbelief, wonder and happiness melted one into the other quickly across her face. With a joyful noise, she rose up a little and threw her arms around his neck.

"I was so scared for a minute," she whispered. "Afraid I had pushed you too far, too fast – pushed you away." She tightened her arms. "Please do not let me do that."

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her. "And neither are you."

She pulled back to look into his handsome face.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too," he returned with his characteristic smile.

They shared a warm, gentle kiss, then she lay back down, taking him with her. She cuddled him close, his head on her chest, his hand still on her belly. His eyes gazed into the dancing flames.

"What if –" He couldn't even finish the thought.

She ached for him, intuitively understanding what was going through his mind at that moment. Cupping his face in her hand, she tipped his head and pulled his eyes back to hers. Her touch and her tone soothed him like nothing else could have.

"There is so much in life we cannot control. Even though I want to, I cannot promise to be with you for the rest of your life." Her gaze softened. "However, I can promise I will love you for the rest of mine."

Slowly, their lips came together, soft and gentle and affectionate at first, quickly growing more heated. They began to make love again, each needing the emotional reassurance that their physical connection brought.

In contrast to earlier, this time it was slow, worshipful … spending time as though they had all of it they would ever need and then some. She pushed him onto his back and ran her hands lightly over every inch of him, then followed with her lips, pressing kisses that alternately teased and satisfied and inflamed.

"I love your body," she whispered, never lifting her mouth, her hands from him. "You are so handsome and sexy … your face … your chest … your hands …" She roamed everywhere she mentioned and everywhere in between, paying proper attention to it all with her touch and her mouth. Then she burrowed a hand beneath him, even as she nuzzled his neck just under his ear. "And your back makes my mouth water and my fingers itch to touch it every time I see it."

"Sure you got the right guy?" he asked, not quite joking. His own hands were far from idle, roaming over every lithe, silky inch of her he could reach.

"I am sure," she husked, raising her head to smile at him. "And I have yet to mention your eyes or your hair or …" One hand slid unhurriedly down to his hip … and beyond. Her eyes took on a sexy twinkle. "The rest of you."

He grinned and she couldn't help but respond in kind. He loved the playful side of their lovemaking almost as much as the heat that felt like it could melt the paint off the walls.

Needing her mouth again, Gibbs tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her face down to capture her lips. He kissed her deeply, rolling her beneath him. He returned the favor of discovering her as though she were completely new to him, with the added benefit of what experience had taught him about the particular places she loved for him to touch … kiss … suckle …explore.

At last, he rose above her and she opened her thighs, welcoming him, wanting him. Blue eyes stayed locked on brown as he positioned himself and entered her … just a bit at a time, pulling back only to slide a little deeper each time until she was clinging to him, desperate for him to be seated fully within her.

Her hips rose to meet him and her hands slid to the small of his back, pressing down and pulling him into her, needing him deeper and deeper. Finally, his entire shaft was encased by her warm, drenched center. If she'd had breath to spare, she have sobbed out her relief that he was finally exactly where she wanted him, needed him to be - part of her.

Their mouths joined once more, their tongues dancing and stroking. They moved together, slowly at first, drawing out the incredible sensations as long as possible. As one, they moved faster and faster until their movements telegraphed how desperate they were for release. Knowing she was almost over the edge, she pressed open-mouthed kisses along his cheek to his ear and breathed a silken command.

"Come with me."

With a groan, he moved almost frantically a few more times, then stiffened as her name was forced from his throat and his seed filled her womb. The warmth of him flooding into her was all she needed to push her over the precipice, clinging to him as they fell together, each supremely confident that the other would be there for the landing.

With a deep sigh, he collapsed onto her, his forehead nestled against her throat. She could barely move, but managed to wrap him up tightly as though daring anyone to try to take him from her. They lay together completely content, completely connected, on every level.

"Part of me does not want to go back home tomorrow," she murmured sleepily when she could speak, holding the back of his head gently, encouraging him to stay pillowed on her chest.

"We can come back," he assured her, his lips barely moving, his body near to boneless.

"I would like that," she sighed, relaxing into a light sleep.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly and he pressed a kiss to the curve of her breast, holding onto her as she dozed. After a long while of floating drowsily on a cloud of contentment, a warm feeling nudged him inside. He managed to quietly rise up without waking Ziva and walked over to the counter where his wallet lay.

Opening it up, he pulled out the picture he'd carried there for more than twenty years. A smiling Shannon had her arms wrapped around an eight-year-old Kelly's shoulders as the girl stood grinning in front of her mother, Shannon's chin resting on Kelly's head. He looked at it fondly, rubbing his thumb lightly over it. He thought back thirty years and for the first time in forever, was able to remember the years that followed without feeling like his heart was being ripped from his chest.

His father's words rang in his ears. _Shannon would want you to be happy._

"Jethro?" came a sleepy murmur from in front of the fireplace.

"Right here," he answered. With a last gentle touch to the photo, he laid it on top of his wallet and went back to the other amazing woman he'd never expected to find. Maybe he'd show her the picture tomorrow ... because maybe she'd given them back to him after all.

On the outskirts of his heart he acknowledged that it wasn't exactly easier having Ziva on the inside, having her acquainted with his demons … but it was better.

Gibbs scooped her up and carried her upstairs to their bed. The morning dawned bright and clear. They lingered in bed and then had breakfast out on the deck off their room. They took one more hike, then packed up their things and headed back home.

* * *

><p>That weekend marked a turning point for them. They had been close and happy before, but now their underlying foundation had been strengthened even further. Over the next several weeks, Ziva began spending more and more of her nights at Jethro's. While she didn't officially move in, she was living there for all intents and purposes, except on the nights when he was working around the clock – those she usually spent back at her apartment.<p>

When he sent the team home on those nights to catch a couple hours of sleep so they could come back fresh to a stalled or frustrating case, she convinced him to just come to her place to rest. At first he'd resisted, unsure about staying over with Tali there, too.

"_Oh, so it is all right for me to sleep with you while your father is under the same roof, but not for you to sleep with me with my sister down the hall, hmmm?" she'd commented archly the first night this came up._

_Oh._

_Then she'd murmured, "Besides, my place is closer and we will both sleep better if we are together … and I miss you." _

His token resistance had crumbled and one more layer had been added to the routine of their lives together.

Both Gibbs and Ziva knew that the future was never certain, but they were blissfully happy in the here and now with unlimited possibilities shimmering brightly, tantalizingly ahead.


	16. Just Breathe

_Three months later ...  
><em>

No one knew better than Gibbs that an arrest can go to hell in a hand-basket in just the time it takes for someone to pull a trigger. But he hadn't been expecting this one to; he really hadn't.

Things had actually gone quite smoothly in this latest case, both in terms of the investigation and the arrest. Given that this was a crime involving the diversion of several million dollars of Navy money into various other accounts of the Swiss bank and Cayman Islands variety, McGee had done most of the heavy lifting on the investigative end without even leaving his desk and had done a fine job of it.

Now, they had the suspect in handcuffs and Tony was pushing him toward the car. The others were putting the evidence they'd collected from the guy's house into the NCIS truck. Due to the nature of the crime, the proof they'd gathered was mostly on the guy's computers and flash drives.

Without warning, the suspect's misguided sister appeared seemingly out of nowhere, determined to defend her brother from the bad guys. In her eyes, that meant Gibbs and his team, as she simply couldn't believe her brother had committed the embezzlement crimes that the evidence suggested he had.

Gibbs caught the glint off a small caliber weapon as she aimed it toward them.

"Gun," he shouted. Kate was standing near him and Gibbs dove to his left to shove her down, reaching for his gun at the same time.

He felt a sharp pain as he got off a shot and watched the surprise shooter fall to her knees gripping her shoulder where he'd intentionally put his bullet. Tony and Tim had pushed the suspect to the ground and now they hauled him up and hustled him into the car. There were local LEOs there standing by to offer any necessary assistance and they quickly subdued the woman.

Kate got up and dusted herself off before pulling out her phone and calling for an ambulance.

She turned to Gibbs with a rueful smile. "Thanks –"

Then she noticed he was still on the ground. He'd managed to unzip his jacket and was holding his right side where his vest had ridden up as he'd stretched to push her out of harm's way. The red seeping between his fingers had every ounce of blood leaving her face.

"Gibbs!" She knelt beside him. Pulling off her jacket, she pressed it against his wound, applying pressure. "Tony! McGee! Hang on, Gibbs; the ambulance will be here soon."

Tim had quickly sized up the situation and made his own call for another ambulance and a call to NCIS with the report than an agent was down. That would bring all the backup they could ever need. Tony locked the suspect in the back of their car and shouted for one of the local police officers to come stand guard. He responded immediately. Tony then ran over to join Kate and Tim at their boss' side.

Gibbs grimaced from the pain, but he was breathing – and pissed as hell.

As gunshot wounds went, they had all seen worse, but it was still frightening for the younger agents.

The medics were there in record time. As they were loading the gurney he was on into the ambulance, Gibbs grabbed Kate's hand. She looked at him, concerned.

"Ziva," he panted.

She immediately got the message. "Don't worry," she assured him. "I'll take care of her and we'll meet you at the hospital."

The backup agents had arrived, as well as more local police. The other agents transported the suspect back to NCIS and took charge of the evidence so that Tony and Tim could follow the ambulance to the hospital. Kate commandeered one of the other agency cars that had arrived so that she could get to Ziva. While Tony was speeding toward Bethesda, Tim called Ducky and directed him to get Abby and meet them at the hospital.

Time seemed to simultaneously race and move in slow motion for Kate as she headed to the coffee shop. As she walked in, Ziva automatically looked up to welcome the new customer. Her smile warmed as soon as she saw it was Kate.

"Hello," she said. "This is a nice surprise."

The look on Kate's face at her comment had Ziva going pale and still. As Kate reached the counter, Ziva's hand shot out to grip the agent's arm.

"What has happened? Where is Jethro?" her tone was almost harsh in its urgency.

Kate laid her other hand on top of Ziva's and pressed it reassuringly.

"On his way to the hospital," she informed the other woman, cutting straight to the facts. "He's been shot, but it could have been worse. He was awake and mad as hell when they loaded him in the ambulance – and worried about you."

Ziva closed her eyes, trying not to panic. Trust Jethro to be concerned about her when he was the one who'd been hurt.

A couple of her staff were working with her. Becky had hurried off to Ziva's office as soon as she heard Kate's news and was soon back with her boss' jacket and purse, shooing her off with Kate. They assured Ziva they could handle things and would call Tali if they needed anything.

Part of Ziva felt like she should call Tali herself and her mother – and Jethro's father – _oh my God_ – but she couldn't do it just yet. She could only put one foot in front of the other and get to Jethro as quickly as possible.

Ziva stared out her side window for most of the ride to Bethesda, gripping her handbag until her fingers were white and willing herself to stay calm. The fear clawed at her, but she tried hard to keep it on a leash. _Just breathe _she ordered herself, concentrating on taking a breath in, then exhaling slowly.

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked Kate in a husky voice.

As succinctly as possible, Kate explained what had gone down. She didn't know a lot about the wound other than it involved a small caliber bullet and the medics' cursory exam had not revealed an exit wound. The bleeding had been controlled quickly, so it did not appear that any major organs were hit.

They arrived at the hospital and went into emergency. Kate flashed her badge and demanded to know where Special Agent Gibbs had been taken. The nurse tried to say that she couldn't give out that information, but Kate informed her that Ziva was Gibbs' fiancée and next of kin. That - plus the badge - did the trick. Ziva was too desperate to get to her lover to contradict Kate.

As the two women headed toward the trauma unit to which they'd been directed, Tony and Tim were getting the same "next of kin" talk upstairs. Tony pulled Tim aside and told him to find a computer and get Ziva marked as Gibbs' next of kin as the Boss was likely to storm out of there if the staff wouldn't let her in to see him. Tim was on it.

Just after Kate and Ziva arrived in the waiting room where Tony was, the doctor came in and asked for Ziva David. Of course, he pronounced her last name in the English manner, but she was too worried to correct him.

Kate was worried, too, but she informed him, "It's dah-veed."

"Please," Ziva said, sounding desperate even to her own ears, "tell me how Jethro is."

"He's stable," the doctor said. "We think the bullet is trapped in his appendix, but can't be sure until we get a look in there. If that's the case, the simplest procedure is probably to remove the appendix. We might even be able to do it laparoscopically, which would mean a pretty quick recuperation time. Barring any surprises, we expect him to make a full recovery. However, he is refusing to even allow us to give him much for pain - let alone get him to the operating room - until he sees you, Ms. David."

Just then, an older nurse who wore her years of experience like a mantle about her shoulders came up to the group at a determined pace. Looking past the doctor, she set her sights on Ziva and Kate. "Please tell me one of you is named Ziva."

"I am," Ziva spoke quickly. "What -"

The nurse looked up at the doctor. "He's now threatening to pull out his IV and walk out to find her."

The doctor allowed a small smile at Ziva. "Go ahead – and perhaps you can convince him to sign the consent papers for the surgery sooner than later."

Ziva nodded, but she was already in motion, hurrying down the hall with the nurse.

The doctor told the rest of them to have a seat and they'd be updated when he had something more to tell them.

Tim had returned to the waiting room shortly after the doctor had arrived. As soon as the surgeon left, Tony turned to Tim and clapped him on the shoulder. "Quick work on the next of kin, McHacker."

"Wasn't me, Tony," Tim denied.

Tony looked at him in disbelief and snarked, "You actually met a computer you couldn't handle? But -"

Kate elbowed him and Tim threw her a small grateful smile.

"I didn't say I couldn't get in," Tim pointed out. "I did – but Ziva was already listed as his next of kin."

They were all a little taken aback at that. True, the couple had been together for months and seemed perfect for each other, but Gibbs' team had never considered that their relationship had gotten to that point.

Just then Abby and Ducky burst out of the elevator – well, Abby burst; Ducky followed at a quick, yet dapper pace.

"Where's Gibbs?" Abby started. "Is he going to be all right? Where is he, Tony? You tell me right now!"

Before Tony could get the words out, Abby gasped, "Ziva!" She turned to Kate with horrified eyes. "Someone has to tell Ziva!"

Kate took Abby's hands in hers and squeezed. "Ziva's in with him right now; I brought her in," Kate assured her friend. "And Gibbs is down the hall. They need to get him into surgery, but he wanted to see Ziva first." She turned to Ducky as she filled him and Abby in on what the doctor had said about the bullet and the surgical procedure.

Ducky went off to see if he could find the doctor himself and talk one medical professional to another.

In the meantime, the nurse opened the curtain closing off Jethro's area from the rest of the unit.

"I told you -" he practically snarled.

"I brought you a present, so you might consider being nice to me or I'll take it back," she retorted. He looked at her with confusion.

The nurse stepped to the side and gestured to someone who was apparently behind her. Ziva walked through the curtain. The look of relief on both their faces to finally be near each other tugged at the veteran nurse's heart-strings.

In no time, Ziva was beside the bed and had his hand in hers. Immediately the heart-monitoring machine slowed down its insistent beeping.

"Well, I see you're better than medication," the nurse reflected to Ziva. "I'll give you two a few minutes."

She looked at Gibbs just before going back through the curtain and said, "I know I've seen worse from a bullet wound and you probably have, too, but keep in mind we do need to get that out of you sooner than later."

"You will," Ziva spoke authoritatively, with a look that spoke volumes at Jethro, even as it managed to be tender. The nurse left with a satisfied smile.

"You're doing it again." Gibbs grimaced as a wave of pain hit him again, but tugged at Ziva until she was sitting on the bed beside him.

"Doing what?" she husked, rubbing her left hand over his heart as though reassuring herself that it was still beating, that he was still with her.

"Yelling with your eyes," he informed her, a ghost of a grin crossing his features.

She choked out a chuckle even as she blinked back tears and smoothed her hand up his body to cup his face. "Well, it appears you have been in one of your stubborn moods, from what I hear. You _are_ going to let them operate on you, yes?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just wanted to see you first." His left hand kept hold of her right, while his other hand rested on her hip where she pressed up against his left side.

At his words, the moisture in her eyes spilled over and beaded down her cheeks.

"I needed to see you, too," she admitted in a voice hoarse with emotion. Still caressing his face, she bent down and softly kissed him, thanking God when he kissed her back.

She laid her forehead against his. "I need you to be all right," she told him, struggling to contain her emotional response.

"Gonna be," he promised. "Too stubborn for anything else."

"If only that was all it took," she whispered. Clearing her throat, she raised her head a little and reminded him, "You and I both know that our whole life can change in a heartbeat." Then she looked him in the eyes with that fiercely protective look on her face. "But this is not your day to die, do you hear me?"

"I hear ya," he agreed with his characteristic half-smile.

She laid her head against his chest, pressing her nose into his throat for a precious minute.

"You should probably know that the hospital staff is under the impression that I am your fiancée," she told him almost shyly. "It was not my idea," she hurried to add. "Kate and Tony thought it would be best –"

"You should probably know how much I wish that was true," Gibbs interrupted her, smoothing his right hand up and down her back.

She lifted her head from his chest so fast that she nearly clipped his chin. Her eyes flew to his, hers widened in shock.

"Jethro?" she managed to get out past the lump of emotion that had suddenly returned to her throat. It was a good thing her heart wasn't being monitored by that machine or she was sure the staff would have come running when the rate went off the chart.

He smiled at her in that self-deprecating way he had. He raised her hand that he was holding to his lips.

"Was gonna ask you on our trip," he admitted. They were scheduled to fly to Israel in three weeks with Ziva's mother for a two-week stay.

Ziva opened her mouth, but nothing came out. After a moment, she closed it again, her mind reeling.

"Your mother's already been on the phone to your Uncle Eldan," he informed her, "making sure he has the perfect selection of engagement rings at his jewelry store in Haifa so you can pick one out."

If she'd been astonished before, now she was positively dumbfounded. "My mother …?" she whispered faintly.

"Figured I'd need someone on the inside to help me pull it off," he admitted. Then his hand came up to cup her face, tenderly brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Besides you're not the only one with an old-fashioned streak." His smile tugged at his mouth again even as a hint of vulnerability entered his gaze. "And I'm not exactly a mother's dream for her daughter. If she had concerns, I wanted her to take them up with me."

Ziva could hardly believe her ears. True, she had started envisioning forever with him during their weekend at the cabin in Virginia – well, before that, if she was completely honest – and she knew Jethro was happy with her. However, she still hadn't been convinced that he would want to get married again, despite all they'd shared on that magical weekend.

Apparently, he did.

Tears started spilling down her cheeks again as a beautiful smile curved her lips.

"All that is important is that you are _my_ dream," she whispered hoarsely, "though I imagine my mother was thrilled." She smiled through her tears, picturing her mother's response.

"You could say that," Gibbs admitted with a stroke of modesty, his famous half-grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Ziva's mood gradually became more serious. She was quiet for a moment as she looked into his eyes, her own brown ones telegraphing hope and joy … and a need to know.

"And, Jethro … it matters to you?" she asked quietly, referring back to their conversation about his three ex-wives.

"Oh, yeah," he admitted with feeling.

Bending her face close to his, she kept her gaze on his brilliant blue eyes, just a breath away from his mouth. All the love she felt for him nearly glowed on her face as her lips curved again in that smile of hers that had a way of making everything right in his world.

"Then you could still ask me," she husked. After the space of a heartbeat, she added, "I will say yes."

The truth of her declaration was shining in her eyes and a grin pulled at his mouth in response.

"Promise?" he asked, only slightly teasing.

"Promise," she breathed and touched her lips to his again. Their kiss was soft and tender and full of love. Everything else faded away for a few precious moments.

"Well, Abbs," Tony's voice suddenly drawled. "At least we know there's nothing wrong with his lips."

Ziva and Gibbs grinned against each other's mouth. Then, with another brief kiss, they pulled apart and looked over to where Abby stood next to Tony. The Goth was practically quivering with suppressed emotion.

"I had to sneak her in, Boss; she was going crazy out there," Tony explained their presence.

Ziva stood up to move out of the way so his friends could see him, too, but Gibbs grabbed one of her hands to keep her from going far. She wiped at her cheeks with her other hand.

Abby hurried closer and managed to give Gibbs a hug that was almost gentle. "I'm so worried, Gibbs," she whispered.

"Gonna be all right, Abbs," he assured her.

"You have to be," Abby implored, tears in her eyes.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Just then the curtain parted and the nurse was back. "Have you – hey, how did you two get in here?"

"Um … walked?" Abby offered endearingly.

The nurse's lips twitched. "Well, you're going to have to walk right back out. This area is for immediate family only."

"But we are family," Abby protested. "Well, maybe not by -"

"We'll just be going now," Tony interrupted her before she got on a real roll with one of her rambling but utterly charming explanations. Looking at his boss, Tony added, "We'll see ya after, OK?"

Tony's words may have been nonchalant, but the emotion underneath them was anything but. Gibbs nodded, his eyes sending his appreciation to Tony for looking after Abby. Then, those two headed back to the waiting room.

"Now, have you signed those consent papers?" the nurse asked Gibbs sternly.

Ziva bit back a grin when he looked almost sheepish as he shook his head and admitted, "No, ma'am." Then his eyes found Ziva. "Had something else to do first."

For the nurse's part, she was amazed at the transformation of the man in the bed from a grizzly bear with a sore paw to this … teddy bear. Her gaze landed approvingly on Ziva, but the Israeli only had eyes for Jethro.

Gibbs signed the necessary papers quickly and the nurse took them to the desk, saying they'd be in shortly to take him into surgery. Gibbs tugged at Ziva until she was sitting beside him once again.

Looking into her big brown eyes, he told her, "I love you."

"I love you back," she returned in a voice filled with emotion.

"You know I might still get …" his voice trailed off.

In that way she'd always had of being able to read him, even what was going on under the surface, she finished softly, "Worried that you might lose me?"

He nodded, looking into her eyes, clearly struggling not to shut down about that.

Her smile was affectionate yet slightly teasing. "Says the man who is lying in a hospital bed with a bullet in his side." She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips, silently communicating her own worry.

"Just a little bullet," he pointed out. She was pleased to see a banked twinkle in his eye and chuckled in spite of everything.

Then her look became softly serious and full of tenderness.

"I will be worried about losing you, too," she shared in a voice that had gone husky with emotion once more, "so we will just have to help each other through that, yes?"

She cupped his jaw in her hand and smoothed her thumb over his cheek as she looked at him adoringly. "And we will have to make sure we love each other as much as we can every day."

At her words, his worry relaxed – for now. He was sure it would revisit, but he didn't want to lose the here and now with her or the hope for what they could have by focusing completely on his fear.

"Count me in," he murmured, bring her mouth down to his again.

Before long, the staff was opening the curtain and they were unlocking the wheels on his bed and unhooking him from any machine that wasn't going with them. Ziva started to leave, but Gibbs refused to let go of her. His nurse took one look at their clasped hands and suggested Ziva could walk with them to the operating room. Then she threw a stern look at Gibbs and informed him he would have to let go at that point. He nodded reluctantly.

The OR wasn't far and all too soon Ziva was pressing another quick kiss to his lips with a whispered, "I love you."

"Love you, too," he said. He kept her close for another moment with his grip on her hand. "Want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up."

"I will be," she pledged, casting a direct look at the surgeon as though daring him to disagree with her.

"Hear that, doc?" Gibbs said. "Don't mess with her; she's tougher than she looks."

The doctor allowed a small smile. "I'd say she's not the only one."

Gibbs squeezed Ziva's hand once more.

And then he was gone.

_TBC ..._


	17. Waiting

_A/N: In celebration of the NCIS 200th episode and the fact that Cote de Pablo was voted TV Guide's TV's Hottest Woman (of course she is! :p), Brewed Awakenings continues. This chapter is dedicated to Denese925 & kristindanielle15 (thanks for the PMs!) and all the rest of you needing your fix for this story. :) Sincere apologies for the delay in updating; RL has been seriously interfering with my writing time in various and sundry ways. Hope you enjoy this and the next updates should not be this long in coming._

_I owe some of you review responses. Please know that I appreciate every review VERY much and will respond. Refer back to the RL interference as to why those are taking longer than usual, too. :-)_

* * *

><p><em>Previously in Brewed Awakenings ...<em>

_The OR wasn't far and all too soon Ziva was pressing another quick kiss to his lips with a whispered, "I love you."_

_"Love you, too," he said. He kept her close for another moment with his grip on her hand. "Want you to be the first thing I see when I wake up."_

_"I will be," she pledged, casting a direct look at the surgeon as though daring him to disagree with her._

_"Hear that, doc?" Gibbs said. "Don't mess with her; she's tougher than she looks."_

_The doctor allowed a small smile. "I'd say she's not the only one."_

_Gibbs squeezed Ziva's hand once more._

_And then he was gone._

Ziva stood at the swinging doors through which Jethro had just disappeared. One of her hands came up to touch the smooth, cool steel as though she could feel him through it. Her head hung down, eyes squeezed tightly shut. After a few minutes, she took a deep breath and headed back toward the waiting room. She needed to phone Jackson and her mother, and wanted to call Tali about bringing her a change of clothes.

But first … she needed a minute.

Kate had stepped out of the waiting room looking for Ziva, worried that she hadn't come back yet. She spotted the Israeli as she slipped into a ladies room down the hall, one hand raised to the corner of her eye.

Ziva walked into the room and leaned against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. God, she'd been so scared. As the emotional rollercoaster got the best of her, she slid down the wall, laid her forehead on her knees and let the tears flow silently, her shoulders shaking.

Suddenly the door opened and Ziva hurriedly wiped at her cheeks, looking the other way. She started to get up, then heard Kate's voice and decided she could stay where she was.

"Ziva?"

Ziva looked up at the agent, trying to find a reassuring smile.

Kate joined her on the bathroom floor, sitting close and putting a hand on Ziva's knee.

"Hey – he's going to be all right," Kate told her. Then she had a thought. "Unless you know something I don't - ?" She looked at Ziva, apprehension creeping into her gaze.

Ziva shook her head. After she'd cleared her throat, she said, "You are right; he should be fine after some recovery time." Her voice broke a little. "He has to be," she whispered. "I love him so much."

Kate wrapped her arm around Ziva's shoulders, unable to resist offering the other woman some tangible sign of support. Ziva wasn't usually very demonstrative with anyone but Gibbs and her family. However, she leaned against Kate, not only allowing, but seeking comfort.

"He loves you, too," Kate responded with a gentle curve to her lips. "I can tell."

"Yes," Ziva smiled through her tears, her voice husky as she forced it past the lump of emotion in her throat. "He does."

She tilted her head to the side until it rested on Kate's shoulder. "He wants to marry me, Kate," Ziva revealed softly.

Kate was thrilled for both of them. "That's great!" Then she looked at Ziva in concern. Was this what had driven her to tears in the bathroom? "It is great, right? I mean, I know he has those three ex-wives, but -"

Ziva smiled and lifted her head to look at the other woman. She reached up to squeeze Kate's hand where it still gripped her shoulder.

"Yes, it _is_ great," Ziva reassured her. "And his ex-wives do not concern me."

The confidence in her tone was remarkable to Kate, but she was glad to hear it.

"Nothing is official yet, though," Ziva clarified. Her tone became more affectionate. "Apparently he has plans involving our trip to Israel – and my mother."

Kate couldn't help her look of surprise. "Your mother - ?"

"That is what I said!" Ziva nearly snorted, throwing her hands into the air.

Despite the circumstances that had brought them to this place, the two women shared a laugh that bolstered their sense of camaraderie even further.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Kate shared quietly, "I wouldn't blame you for being upset with me right now, you know."

Ziva looked at her, confusion clearly written on the Israeli's face.

"Why would you say that?" Ziva asked, her brows drawn together.

"Gibbs took that bullet shoving me out of the way," Kate pointed out. "I didn't even see it coming. So … it's kind of my fault."

The shadows in her eyes told Ziva all she needed to know about the guilt with which Kate was struggling

"No, Kate," Ziva said immediately, looking the woman straight in the eye. Her right hand reached over and covered the agent's with a reassuring squeeze. "The only blame to be laid here is on the person who pulled the trigger. And besides, Jethro's first instinct is always to protect those around him, especially those he cares about. So, please – wipe that thought right out of your head." Her eyes took on the hint of a twinkle. "Or Jethro is likely to head-slap it out of you."

Kate couldn't help the wry smile that tugged at her lips as she gave a nod that acknowledged the truth of those last words. She looked at Ziva and found nothing but the conviction of her words reflected in her expression. In her heart, Kate couldn't help but still feel a little responsible, though her head knew Ziva was right. Her left arm was still resting along the other woman's shoulders and Kate finally gave her a slight squeeze and whispered, "Thanks."

Ziva pressed her hand again in response and then looked around the room as though just fully realizing her surroundings.

"You know, I do believe this is the first time I've had such a personal conversation while sitting on the floor of a public restroom," Ziva reflected conversationally, turning brown eyes lit with dry humor in Kate's direction.

"Well, you're part of the NCIS family now. We have some of our most interesting conversations in bathrooms," Kate grinned.

* * *

><p>Ziva and Kate joined the others in the waiting room. Tony grabbed hold of the back of Abby's shirt to slow her down a little on her way to hug Ziva, but he needn't have worried. The scientist wrapped the Israeli in a warm, tender hug which Ziva returned appreciatively.<p>

After Ziva had given them all an account of how Gibbs had been doing before they took him into surgery, she called Tali only to find that her little sister was already on her way with an overnight bag. Becky had called her right away after Ziva had left work, for which the older woman was grateful.

After giving Tali a brief update, Ziva hung up to call Jackson, her heart pounding with the news she had to give the older man. They'd just gone to visit him last weekend so they could see him again before their trip. Fortunately, Jackson had given Ziva his phone numbers to put in her phone before they left Stillwater. Ziva handled the conversation delicately, but laid out the facts quickly and rushed to reassure him that all should be well. Jackson said he'd be on his way as soon as he could close up the store and pack a bag.

Ziva's next call was to her mother and she lost her battle to control the tears that threatened again the moment her mother's voice came on the line. As soon as Rivka David heard that Jethro had been shot and was in the hospital, she assured her daughter she was on her way and could be given all the details as soon as she got there.

Tali arrived shortly, followed soon after by their mother. Ziva quickly made introductions, then returned to the restroom to change into the soft, casual clothes Tali had packed for her. She brushed out her braided hair and pulled the front back in a half-ponytail to keep it out of her face.

Figuring none of them would be leaving the hospital anytime soon, Becky had sent over a care package from the shop. There was coffee, of course, but also tea and bottled water. A variety of sandwiches, muffins and desserts rounded out the selection.

Rivka took charge of the food, fussing over each one of them until most had something to eat or drink in their hand. Ziva couldn't swallow anything just yet, but urged the others to go ahead and assured her mother she would eat something once Jethro was out of surgery. Besides, there was enough there to hold them all for a while.

In a little over an hour, the surgeon was back. Even before he spoke, his faint smile and easy demeanor went a long way toward relaxing the group that was waiting anxiously for his news. His eyes found Ziva and she immediately walked over to him.

"How is Jethro?" she asked urgently.

The doctor reached out and laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Everything suggests he's going to be just fine before you know it. The bullet was indeed trapped in his appendix. It had done quite a bit of damage there, but little elsewhere. He's lucky it was a small caliber weapon. We removed the appendix using a laparoscopic procedure and there were no complications. We'll keep him for about twenty-four hours, then he should be able to go home. He should take it easy for a few days, then slowly do what he can tolerate. In two to three weeks, he'll be back to normal – probably sooner than later, if my impression of him is correct."

Ziva's relief was almost palpable.

The surgeon smiled at her with a gleam in his eye. "My guess is that you'll have the tough job, Ms. David, of keeping him down for the first few days."

"He will rest as much as he needs to," she guaranteed the doctor. "I will make sure of it."

"I have no doubt about that," he chuckled. "I wish all my patients had someone like you in their corner." With a last squeeze to her shoulder, he dropped his hand.

He glanced around the room, including the others in his gaze. "If there are no other questions, I have another surgery scheduled soon." Everyone shook their head no and thanked him for coming in.

The doctor looked back at Ziva with banked amusement in his kind eyes. "Let me take you to the recovery room where Agent Gibbs will be for a while. I value the nurses I work with too much to risk his wrath – and yours – if he wakes up and you're not there yet."

Even Ziva cracked a smile at that, as the others chuckled outright. Her mother wrapped her in a quick hug before she left. Ziva assured her and the team she'd give them news as soon as she could.

Ziva was quickly deposited by Jethro's bedside and one of the nurses brought a chair for her. Gibbs was still asleep. He was hooked up to an IV and a couple of machines, but really didn't look too pale for all he'd been through.

After a bit, his nurse started nudging him awake and asked Ziva to talk to him, as well.

"Jethro," Ziva called gently. "Can you hear me? It is time to wake up."

She kept talking to him until his eyes started to slowly move under his closed lids and his head turned toward Ziva's voice.

"That's it," she crooned softly. "Wake up now. I am right here."

He murmured her name on a sigh and gradually opened his eyes. He cracked a small smile as soon as he saw her, then his eyes closed again, unable to stay open yet.

Tears of relief filled Ziva's eyes, as she smiled gently herself and sent a brief prayer of gratitude toward the heavens. She was holding one of his hands tightly and she raised it to her lips.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," she husked.

Slowly but surely, Gibbs finally opened his eyes.

"Hey," he croaked, fighting to stay awake.

"Hey yourself," she returned, blinking back her tears.

Lifting a hand, she ran her fingers through his hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he mumbled, his words slurred. "Thirsty."

The nurse had given permission for him to try some ice chips when he awoke, and Ziva spooned some into his mouth. Before long, he had progressed to sipping water through a straw from the cup Ziva held for him.

Eventually, he was moved to a room in a nearby wing in which he would stay overnight. After he was settled, Ziva knew she needed to give the team and her family an update and let them know he could have visitors. However, neither one of them wanted her to leave the room.

"Stay," he murmured. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, and decided to develop a Plan B.

When the nurse came to check on him soon after, Ziva asked if someone could possibly let the rest of their group know where he was. She assured them it would be taken care of and before long, it had been.

The team urged Rivka to go in first; it hadn't escaped anyone's notice that she'd been as worried about Gibbs as if he'd been her own son. She tried to demur, noting the others had known him far longer, but, to a person, they insisted.

She entered Jethro's room and after pressing a loving squeeze to her daughter's shoulder, she stepped to the other side of the bed and spoke gently to Gibbs, taking his hand in hers. She kept her visit brief so as not to tire him out and so the others could see him without waiting too much longer. Just before she left, Rivka cupped his face in her hands and looked at him with mock sternness.

"I hope you are not planning to make a habit of this," she announced. "I would like grandchildren before I am too old to enjoy them."

A mix of concern and light amusement shone in the dark eyes that she'd passed on to her daughters. Gibbs grinned in response, then nearly chuckled out loud at Ziva's embarrassed, "Ima!"

Rivka and Jethro just smiled at each other with the shared affection that had been born of a genuine liking for each other and shared secrets. He squeezed her hand warmly and she bent closer to place a tender kiss on his forehead.

Jackson had not had time to arrive, but needed an update. In an effort to take care of that – with the added benefit of distracting her mother from making any further awkward comments - Ziva handed her mother her phone and asked the older woman to call him. Regulations prohibited the cell phone from being used in this room due to the hospital machines nearby, but Ziva really didn't want to wait much longer to give the older man some reassurance.

Rivka went back to the waiting room to make the call and to send in the next person. She figured there were worse ways to introduce herself to the man she sincerely hoped would become her in-law than to give him good news. She reached him on his cell as he was on the road. Jackson appreciated the call and was audibly relieved to hear that his son was awake and at least as talkative as normal.

Ducky came in next to see Gibbs, followed by Abby and Kate. Tony and Tim rounded out the rotation of visitors, except for Tali, who stepped into the room just briefly before heading to the shop to check on things there.

Ziva never left his side, even pulling the easy chair in the room up beside the bed to nap in overnight. The nurse who came in to check his vital signs in the middle of the night smiled to see their hands clasped together, even in sleep.

* * *

><p><em><span>AN (cont'd): If you're interested in seeing what Rivka could look like, I put a link on my profile page to a picture of Cote and her RL mother that works for me. If you prefer to use your imagination, go right ahead. :D_


	18. Healing

All went well and Gibbs was indeed released from the hospital late the next day. During the discharge instructions, the nurse informed Gibbs that he was to be on mostly bed rest for the next few days, then he could gradually return to his previous level of activity as tolerated. When he started to dispute the need to stay down for a few days, Ziva interrupted him.

"Oh, he will take it easy," Ziva assured the nurse firmly with a determined look in her eyes aimed at Jethro, "even if I have to chain him to the bed with his own handcuffs."

Gibbs tried looking at her challengingly, but ended up rolling his eyes when she didn't give an inch in her attitude. He couldn't help the affectionate smirk that tugged at his lips, though, over her fiercely protective manner and the fact that not even his infamous stare could intimidate her into caving in.

The nurse grinned with approval. An appointment had already been made for a two-week follow-up with the surgeon and she made sure it was written on the paperwork that would go home with them.

Rivka drove Gibbs and Ziva to his house in her sedan since Ziva did not have her car there. Jackson had arrived the day before just a few hours after receiving the first phone call and he followed them home in his truck.

For the first week, Ziva did not work at all and rarely left Jethro's side, which was just the way he wanted it. His dad stayed for three days just to make sure his son was going to be all right and to do what he could to help out with cooking, laundry and the like so Ziva could focus on keeping Gibbs in bed and relatively happy – not always an easy task, especially since his favorite bedroom activity with her was off limits for a couple of weeks. It didn't help that he had quite a bit of pain for a few days and didn't want to take much for it. The discomfort left him irritable, particularly with anyone but Ziva.

Rivka was in and out, bringing food and keeping Jackson company a bit, as well. Ducky, Abby, Kate, Tim and Tony also stopped in, though kept their initial visits brief. After a couple of days, Ducky often spent some extended time. Taking advantage of the fact that he had a captive audience for his stories, he was able to unobtrusively give Ziva some backup.

The inactivity intensified Jethro's crankiness after only a day or two. Ziva took it all in stride, and tried to relieve the boredom by snuggling, making sure he had his books at his bedside for reading and showing him the pictures from their weekend away at the cabin as she put them into a scrapbook. She'd been meaning to do it, but had never found the time. This forced down-time had created the perfect opportunity.

McGee helped out by setting up a TV and DVD player in the bedroom and Tony gifted his boss with the entire collection of John Wayne movies. That gave them another activity with which to pass the time.

After a few days, Jethro was moving around pretty well. They went to stay at Ziva's apartment for the next week so she could return to work some. She didn't want to leave him at his house as she wanted him close enough that she could check on him. Plus, she could relax a little in leaving him alone for periods of time knowing she was nearby if he needed something. Gibbs knew he'd be all right, be he'd rather be with her than without her so he willingly went along to her place.

By the end of that week, he was spending a great deal of time sitting downstairs in the shop just so he wasn't going stir-crazy. Nearly every day, one or more members of his team came in and had lunch with him at _Brewed Awakenings_. The visits did everyone a world of good.

Ziva drove him to the follow-up appointment with the surgeon, which went very well. Gibbs was released to perform most regular activities, with the caveat that if something hurt, he should stop it. The doctor approved him to go on their trip to Israel in another week as planned, though he was not going to release him to return to work until after they returned. One more appointment was scheduled for a month from now to discuss that, which would be his final follow-up barring any unforeseen circumstances.

Ziva and Gibbs wrapped each other close in bed that night, sharing several warm, increasingly deeper kisses. They hadn't gone two weeks without making love since they'd begun sleeping together and they were both in need of the closeness it brought them. Ziva had been adamant they wait for the doctor's approval before resuming this side of their relationship, holding onto her resolve by her fingernails even after he stepped up his efforts to convince her otherwise once he started feeling better.

Tonight they could be together intimately again at last. They removed each other's clothing one piece at a time, drawing out the process in a tantalizing fashion. Ziva then gently, but insistently pushed him onto his back. Unhurriedly, she pressed kisses to every inch of his face, his throat, his chest … silently communicating just how much she treasured him. When she reached his right side where he now sported five new small scars, she took particular care to place a soft kiss on each of the four surgical incisions and another on the small, round scar nearly in the center of the others where the bullet had entered his body.

A wave of emotion crashed over her. She paused, tightening her arms around him and laying her cheek against the area where he'd been wounded, closing her eyes to hold back the tears that threatened. She'd not shed any tears since the day of the shooting and precious few in front of him that day. Once he'd woken up after surgery, she'd gone immediately into task mode, taking care of Jethro, organizing the others who'd wanted to help in some way and seeing to her business. Perhaps hearing the doctor's words of reassurance today had allowed her to finally relax enough for all of her emotions to surface once again.

Gibbs felt the subtle change in her hold and sensed the feelings she was trying desperately to rein in. He cradled the back of her head in his left hand, tunneling his fingers through her long dark hair until he was gently massaging her scalp. His right hand moved soothingly over left shoulder and arm.

"I'm okay," he reminded her softly.

"I know," she whispered without lifting her head from him.

"Are you?" he asked, concerned.

She started to nod, then stopped and shook her head no slightly.

"But I will be," she promised emotionally, running her fingers tenderly over his side.

"C'mere," he husked and tugged at her until she moved back up his body, tucking her face into his throat. His hands moved over her hair and her back as he cradled her to him protectively.

"Talk to me," he commanded softly, pressing a kiss to her brow.

She just shrugged lightly at first, but he waited her out.

"I was so scared," she finally shared in an achy murmur that brought a lump of emotion to his throat. He tightened his arms around her.

"I am always saying how anything can happen at any time …" she continued before her voice trailed off, "but I had not really experienced that since my father died … until now."

Her voice had strengthened as she spoke until it broke on the last two words.

"And I was really, really scared," she finished in a hoarse whisper.

Wrapped securely in his arms with her guard finally down, she couldn't stop the quiet sobs that shook her shoulders as the worry she'd carried from the moment she'd realized Kate was there with bad news to the point at which he'd first opened his eyes after the bullet had been removed finally got the best of her.

He simply held her close, reassuring her with his physical presence that he was right there and managing to silently communicate that he loved her more than he could really say. In his mind, he reflected on all she'd been through these past couple of weeks. He'd been physically wounded, but … her heart had been hurt, as well.

Gibbs had worked two jobs in his adult life. He'd been a Marine and an NCIS agent, both of which could easily have left him wounded or worse. To him, that was simply a fact, the danger an acceptable hazard. And, as far as he was concerned, there was never any question that those careers were part of who he was; take him, take the work. Period.

Yet, he'd never really considered the impact of the risk on the people that loved him. Sure, he and Shannon had discussed it some, but he'd never truly understood what she went through every time he'd been deployed until she'd been suddenly taken away from him. After that, he'd kept himself aloof from his emotions as much as possible – especially in his romantic relationships - building walls that only Ziva had managed to fully penetrate.

Her tears didn't last long, but she still held onto him for dear life as though afraid he might disappear at any moment. Inside though, she was slowly relaxing for the first time in the last couple of weeks. She had needed this – admitting her fears and allowing him to console, to reassure her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, apologizing for losing control of her emotions.

He shook his head. "Don't apologize for telling me how you feel," he told her. "Always want you to share that with me."

He pressed a kiss to her head, then spoke against her hair. "And I want to be the one you lean on when you need someone."

Keeping a tight hold on her, he gently rolled them so she was on her back and he was rising slightly above her. She tried to raise a hand to brush the tracks of her tears from her cheeks, but he beat her to it, gently smoothing them away.

"What can I do?" he asked her softly, all the love he felt for her clearly on display.

After a delicate sniffle, she made an attempt at a wry smile.

"I presume wrapping you in pillows and covering you from head to toe in bullet-proof armor is out of the question," she guessed, phrasing it as a statement.

"Might make some things kinda difficult," he agreed. "Like moving."

She released a sigh as the ghost of a smile played about her lips.

"Then nothing, I suppose," she responded quietly, answering his question.

Ziva's hands slid to his chest, her fingers flexing gently into his well-defined muscles. She looked there rather than into his eyes until he raised her chin with the side of his hand.

"Don't know if I could do another job, but if you need me to, I'll try." In the soft bedside lamplight, his blue eyes were clear with purpose.

"Jethro," she started, plainly intending to deny that he should even think about that.

He laid a gentle finger over her lips.

"I'm serious," he told her, truth ringing in his voice. "Don't blow it off. Think about it and tell me what you need."

Ziva lay there quietly for a moment gazing up into his handsome face. Her heart swelled as it became perfectly clear that he meant exactly what he said. A faint smile curved her lips as she raised her fingers to his cheek.

"That may be the sweetest thing you have ever said to me," she murmured tenderly. "Why do I have the feeling you have never made that offer before?"

"'Cause I haven't," he admitted.

She loved him so much and the full force of that rolled through her, leaving her warm and tingly inside. Would the man never cease to amaze her? She rather hoped not.

All her love and more than a tinge of wonder lit her big brown eyes as she looked up at him.

"I do not need you to be someone you are not, Jethro," she told him firmly, her gaze locked on his. "I love the person you are, including the part of you who needs to serve and protect."

"You mean more to me than that," he replied, his tone certain.

"How do you do it?" she wondered after a moment, seemingly off topic. "I keep thinking there is no way I could love you more, then you say or do something that makes me fall even further."

His eyes took on an impish twinkle as he offered with a slight shrug, "It's a gift."

Jethro's playful sense of humor that was so often displayed when it was least expected took her delightfully by surprise. A charmed light laugh left Ziva's throat and he chuckled along with her before nuzzling his nose against her neck. She brought a hand to his cheek and turned him toward her so she could capture his lips in a soft, clinging kiss.

When she allowed him to raise his head, she left her hand on his face.

"You do not need to take a different job," she said firmly, clearly. "But you might have to put up with me getting a little emotional sometimes – and perhaps you could try not to take any unnecessary risks?"

"Deal," he promised, dropping a brief kiss to her lips. "If that changes, you need to tell me."

Her eyes skittered away, uncomfortable with ever asking him to make such a change for her.

"Promise me, Ziva," he all but growled into her ear.

She shook her head slightly and he pulled back to look into her face once more, clearly determined to convince her otherwise. She cupped his jaw in her hand and rubbed her thumb over his lips to stop him from saying more.

"I could never ask that of you, Jethro," she advised him quietly, but with certainty. "But I will promise to talk to you if my worrying starts to get a little out of hand so you can hold me through it – if you promise that my admitting it will not make you feel guilty about the work you do. All right?"

He tucked her hair behind her ear before wrapping his large hand around the back of her neck.

"All right," he agreed, somewhat reluctantly.

Jethro's thumb smoothed over the skin just in front of her ear.

"Love you," he told her, wishing he had better words for conveying just how much.

"I love you, too," she husked, pulling him back down onto her and pressing her lips to his.

Ziva and Jethro made love tenderly, without hurry. She was particularly gentle with him until he wordlessly proved to her beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn't about to break. At last, she moved to straddle him, taking him slowly, deeply within her. They rocked back and forth for a long while, just reveling in the sensation of being physically connected again. Finally, they could hold back no longer and she slid back and forth on him faster and faster until they reached their climax together, their sounds of mutual completion a heady mix.

Breathing heavily, heart pounding, Ziva melted down onto Jethro's chest, burying her face in that delicious spot where his neck met his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around her back, Gibbs held her to him closely, wordlessly making it clear that he was never letting her go. They lay exactly like that for a long time, both of them drowsy and completely satiated.

Grateful for the present and dreaming of forever, they fell asleep encircled within each other's arms.


	19. Say Yes

_A/N: I pondered a great deal on how much - if any - detail to include about their trip to Israel in this chapter. I eventually decided that sharing certain aspects of their vacation could further illustrate the ever-deepening bond I see between Ziva and Gibbs in this tale, and so I listened for what the story might tell me about that. Their trip is painted in fairly broad strokes, with some detail added here and there, largely based on my own trip to Israel last year. No political opinions are meant to be taken from what I have and have not included here; I did, however, consciously try to think from Ziva and Rivka's perspective. I kept a travel blog on tumblr while I was in Israel; you can find it there under seekpeace01 if you wish to see pictures of some of what is described below. (I believe if you go to Archives on my tumblr page, you will see thumbnails of my posts. You can click on those for more details.)_

_Unless something unexpected strikes me, two more chapters will close this story out, which will be a bittersweet moment for me. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, so please don't be shy. :) All the usual disclaimers apply, although the original characters of Ziva's Uncle Eldan and Aunt Lydia are all mine. With all that being said, happy reading!_

* * *

><p>One afternoon during the second and last week of their trip to Israel, Gibbs and Ziva were exploring the Baha'i Gardens in Haifa. Ziva had always loved these beautiful gardens and there was much she appreciated about the Baha'i faith's central beliefs of equality and unity. She did not pretend to be an expert on this religion, but their commitment to peace practically radiated from this place and that had a way of drawing her here.<p>

They were spending their last few days staying at her uncle's house in Haifa on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea and were using that as a base to explore this northwest region of Israel. Ziva had wanted to share these gardens with Jethro, which is what had brought them here today. As they meandered along, Ziva reflected on the last couple of weeks.

Their trip thus far had been nothing short of wonderful. During the long flight over, they had both managed to let go of the demands of their work back in the States which allowed them to concentrate on each other and the sights they planned to visit. Really, there was too much history here to see everything in this one trip, but they would hit a lot of the high points.

They had flown all night on a direct flight from DC to Ben-Gurion International Airport near Tel Aviv. Rivka had traveled back to Israel much more frequently than Ziva and had applied her frequent flyer miles to upgrade them all to first class. That certainly made the lengthy flight much more comfortable. Jethro and Ziva were seated together and he had ushered her into the window seat. Some habits never die, including the one that kept him vigilant of his surroundings and poised to act if necessary. The aisle seat was the one for that.

Rivka was right across the narrow aisle from him, close enough for them to talk to her easily. Another Jewish woman flying home to Israel after visiting family in the US ended up being her seatmate and the two women hit it off famously, chatting easily.

At one point, Ziva cast her eyes in her mother's direction, then looked wryly up at her lover. "I swear that woman can talk to anyone," she murmured under her breath. Jethro's delectable half-grin was his only response.

Eventually, Rivka and her new friend had drifted off to sleep. Shortly after, Gibbs and Ziva had followed, her head resting on his chest as she curled into him and his arms held her close.

They'd landed in Israel in the early afternoon, local time. That first night, they'd stayed in a hotel in Tel Aviv with a fantastic view of the Mediterranean, just to let their bodies settle a little into a time zone that was seven hours ahead of the time back home. While they were there, Ziva and Jethro ventured out to walk the beach and see a bit of the city. It was not warm enough for swimming here this time of year, but the view of the water was breathtaking. Ziva pointed out that, while Tel Aviv is recognized as the most liberal and progressive city in Israel, it was very much like any other big city elsewhere in the world. They would be traveling to other destinations far more steeped in history, some of it dating back more than three thousand years.

Rivka had requested that they travel to Jerusalem first, as visiting the Temple Mount was always part of her return trips home. After enjoying breakfast in their hotel, they'd hired a car to drive them to that holy city. They'd stayed with some dear friends of Ziva's mother who lived in Jerusalem for the three days they were there.

Jethro had spent time in the Middle East as a Marine, but had never been to Jerusalem. The sights, sounds and history were almost too much to absorb in the short time they were there. They walked a lot, though Ziva was always mindful of Jethro's recent injury and careful with their pace. He let her fuss without a word, but he'd healed amazingly quickly, only feeling a twinge now and then on his right side with lifting or on long walks.

He managed to convince Ziva he was more than capable of climbing the one hundred seventy-eight steps inside a tower that was part of the Lutheran Church of the Redeemer in the Old City and of venturing to the top of the Mount of Olives. Both sites offered a magnificent view of much of Jerusalem and were well worth the climb.

The couple accompanied Rivka to the Western Wall of the Temple Mount, known by many as the Wailing Wall. There was a men's side and a women's side. While Rivka went into the women's side, Ziva took Jethro down and to the right of the wall to a small area known as Robinson's Arch, the only spot where men and women can approach the wall together.

Over the next several days, they covered a lot of territory. They swam in the Dead Sea – well, floated to be more exact. The salt concentration of this body of water is about thirty percent, making it very difficult to actually submerge beneath its surface. At thirteen hundred feet below sea level, it was much warmer here than the temperatures they'd largely been experiencing and very comfortable for entering the water.

While in that area, they also toured Masada, the remains of a stunning, yet haunting fortress which dated back thousands of years and overlooked the desert and the Dead Sea. Its history of Jewish revolt in AD 66 and the subsequent Roman siege a few years later was the stuff of legend and Masada had become a symbol of Jewish resistance throughout the turbulent times in this land.

Next, they went north to The Galilee. They enjoyed a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee, for which they had beautiful weather. On the way to Haifa from The Galilee, they stopped to visit Rivka's sister, Lydia, who lived in a kibbutz, Mishmar HaEmek. She had made this her home for decades. While Rivka and her sister caught up with each other, Ziva gave Jethro a tour of the compound, explaining the history behind it. She finished with taking him to the Holocaust Memorial here. Of all the ones she had ever visited, this was the one that spoke most directly to her heart.

This place of remembrance was not large and was comprised of a series of light gray marble statues that said so much in their simplicity. The carving of a little one crouched low in a narrow space was meant to honor and remember all of the children who had spent sometimes years confined to hiding in small boxes, chimneys and the like and had a way of cutting straight to one's soul.

Jethro found the memorial very moving and was fiercely glad that Ziva had shared this spot with him. Not only did it give him an intimate sense of the history that would always live with all Jewish people, another aspect of the woman he loved had trustingly been laid bare before him. He curved his arms around her from behind as she told him softly what she knew of the history behind the specific design of this memorial. She sank into him gratefully, feeling his love wrapped around her as surely as she did his arms.

Their arrival in Haifa had been met with great fanfare by Rivka's family, who could not have been happier to see them and to meet Jethro. The first couple of days had largely been spent with family as they toured several sights of interest along the Mediterranean coast. That brought Ziva's thoughts back around to the present.

* * *

><p>They now had two more nights and three days left on their vacation before they would board another overnight trans-Atlantic flight to return home. They had seen much in their time here in the land of Ziva's birth, often with many others about. This afternoon in the Baha'i Gardens was meant to be relaxing and to allow them to enjoy some time with just each other.<p>

There were nineteen terraces to climb on these lovely, meticulously-maintained grounds. Ziva set their pace here at a stroll, not wanting to overtax him. He knew she was quietly taking care of him again, but he let it slide with an inner smile.

When they had reached the last terrace, Jethro turned to Ziva and took both her hands in his. "Got a question for ya."

Her eyes lit up. She'd been anticipating every day for him to follow through on his plan to ask her to marry him while they were in Israel. As the days passed, though, she'd had an errant thought or three that maybe he'd changed his mind about that. Hope sprang within her that perhaps he hadn't.

"Yes - ?" she drawled, squeezing his hands. This was certainly a beautiful venue for a proposal, though she didn't really need that – just him.

He dropped a quick kiss to her lips.

"Tell me again how many terraces we've climbed?" He grinned inwardly at the disappointment that shadowed her eyes for a moment.

She told him.

"That's right," he assented, turning to lead her a little further, retaining his grip on one of her hands.

He stopped again.

"There was something else I wanted to ask," he said thoughtfully, looking up toward the heavens as though for inspiration. "Oh, yeah – did you decide where we're going to eat tonight?" They were going out on a dinner date, just the two of them, and he'd asked her to pick the spot since she was the expert around here.

Again, a hint of regret passed across her face. She shook her head, though named a couple of places she'd considered.

They walked further and found themselves in a more secluded area of this garden. _Perfect_ he thought. Ziva was looking around, seemingly taking in the beauty surrounding them, but her thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

"Oh, and Ziva?" he asked almost offhandedly, then suddenly stopped and took both her hands again. Looking into those big brown eyes that had captured him the moment he'd first laid eyes on her, he asked softly, "Will you marry me?"

The surprise on her face told him he had indeed caught her off guard, which he'd totally been trying to do. But she was nothing if not quick, and the shock was quickly followed by that smile of hers that brightened his whole world just by being near it.

With a gleeful noise, she jumped and threw her arms around his neck. His arms instinctively came around her and he swung her around, then held her close with her feet off the ground, grinning like a fool himself.

"I was starting to wonder if you had changed your mind," she whispered, the side of her face pressed tightly against his.

"Not on your life," he swore, "just wanted to surprise you a little."

Her light laugh danced on the air as she pulled back just far enough for them to see each other. "You certainly did that."

He rubbed his nose against hers. "You haven't answered me yet. You should know that Uncle Eldan is expecting us at his jewelry store later today and your mother has an engagement party planned for tomorrow night. Wouldn't want to break their hearts, would you?" He leaned his forehead against hers. "Or mine."

"Engagement party - ?" Ziva breathed faintly, clearly stunned. "But I thought …"

She knew there was a gathering planned for their last night in Israel with family and friends coming in from all over, but she'd been told it was so everyone had a chance to see each other and say goodbye.

His brilliant blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "That's what you were supposed to think."

Ziva shook her head in amazement, then suddenly recovered enough from her astonishment to remember his recent injury. Bracing her hands against his shoulders, she insisted, "Jethro! Put me down! Your side –"

"My side is fine," he minimized. "And I'm not putting you down until you say yes."

He looked deeply into her eyes, all the love he felt for her on full display in his own. "You promised you would," he reminded her softly.

"I did, didn't I?" she husked, staring back into the face she adored – would always adore. She brought one hand up to lovingly caress his cheek.

He nodded.

So, in the arms of the man she loved, in what were perhaps the most beautiful gardens in the country that would always live in her heart, Ziva said _yes_.


	20. Feels Like Forever

_A/N: Hello! Thanks for coming back for this update. My apologies for the delay in posting this. Some persnickety parts of the chapter (including the title) met up with some RL business AND that plot bunny that attacked me for Psych Out ("You Belong With Me") to put this one later than I would have hoped with regard to updating. Plus, I sometimes think my muse subconsciously drags her feet when we're down to the end (one more chap closes this out!), as it's a bittersweet time._

_I owe a HUGE thank you and TACKLE HUG to my dear pal gosgirl who spotted Ziva's wedding dress for this chapter. It's from a photo shoot CdP did for Beverly Hills Lifestyle Magazine in 2011. If you are a Cote fan and haven't seen some of the pics from that, do yourself a favor and search for it. There are some fantastically gorgeous pics from that shoot. Next HUGE hug and TACKLE HUG goes to another dear friend, iyimgrace, who once again came through for me on the wedding dress avatar. *mmmMWAAAHHH!* to you both. (Just FYI, in my head, I don't have Ziva's hair so teased out for the wedding as they did in this shoot, but I really wanted you to be able to see the dress.)_

_This is another long chapter, but I think you'll see why I wanted to keep the flow the way I did._

_I had some real alert problems while posting that recent episode tag, so I'm still catching up on responding to those reviews. Please know that I appreciate them VERY much and you'll be hearing from me. :o) Hopefully, there won't be glitches on that for me or any of you regarding the alerts for this one - ! - especially since some of you have been waiting anxiously for the update. Special thanks to those of who who let me know that. xoxoxo  
><em>

_I hope you enjoy this and that you'll review if you do. ^_^  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>Four months later …<em>

Their wedding day dawned sunny and beautiful. The ceremony was held on a late Sunday morning in June among the gardens blooming in Rivka's back yard. Those closest to them had gathered to join the celebration and no one was unaffected by the love and happiness that practically radiated off both Jethro and Ziva throughout the day.

Even the members of his team were a little amazed at the pure unadulterated joy that Gibbs made no move to hide. It sparkled in his eyes from the moment Ziva began walking toward him on her mother's arm as he waited for her under the chuppah and it never left. He didn't notice their wonder, though, or their own happiness for him; he only had eyes for his bride.

The rabbi that performed the ceremony was from Rivka's temple and he was a very personable, jovial older man who was pleased to be part of marrying two people who were so obviously meant to be together.

In addition to being married under the white canopy, they included many other elements of a traditional Jewish wedding in the ceremony. In some ways, that was another outward representation for Gibbs that this wedding, this _marriage_, was different for him - certainly different than his last three. And, he found he liked it that way.

The couple also followed the custom of _yichud_ – a short time alone, just the two of them, immediately following the ceremony. With contagious smiles, they made their way down the short aisle that had been created by the placement of the chairs for their guests and disappeared up into Ziva's old bedroom where she'd spent last night.

While they'd finished moving Ziva into Gibbs' house – _their _house – this past week, she'd stayed at her mother's last night along with Tali, her maid of honor for the wedding. They'd been joined for the evening by Kate, Abby and Ziva's aunts and female cousins who were attending the ceremony, as well.

The evening had been fun and festive, but Ziva had missed being with Jethro and the kiss she pulled him into as soon as her bedroom door was closed communicated that in no uncertain terms.

"Mmmm …" he hummed against her lips as soon as she let them have just enough room to breathe. "Missed you, too."

She grinned against his mouth before pulling back further to look into his smiling eyes. Her left hand came up to caress his face and he caught it in his, bringing her fingers to his mouth to press a kiss against the platinum band she now wore on her ring finger. He wore a matching, wider version on his own left ring finger.

"Missing somethin' here," he noted and reached into the pocket of his suit jacket to pull out her engagement ring. It was traditional for a Jewish bride to wear no other jewelry under the chuppah except for the ring her groom placed on her finger, so Tali had taken Ziva's engagement ring to Jethro just before the ceremony. Ziva had already made it perfectly clear to him the day before that she wanted to be wearing it again as soon as possible.

As he slipped the diamond back on her finger to fit snugly above her wedding band, she thought back to the day in her uncle's jewelry store in Haifa when they'd chosen it. Jethro had noticed how her eyes kept coming back to this one. It had seven round diamonds in all, with the largest in the center and three smaller diamonds running down each side, tapering in size as they went. The setting was such that it appeared the diamonds were almost floating elegantly along the narrow band. She'd kept looking at other rings, certain the price tag on that one would be high, but Jethro had silently caught Uncle Eldan's eye and nodded toward this one, refusing to let her protest.

The ring was already in her size as though it had been made for her. From the moment he'd placed it on her finger, they had both known it was perfect. She'd cupped his face in her hands and kissed him right there, and the ring had not come off until she'd removed it earlier for the wedding.

"There." He nodded in satisfaction as he completed his task.

"Have I mentioned that I love you?" she asked him softly with a smile that was reflected in her sparkling brown eyes, running her arms up to loop around his neck.

He pretended to think.

"It's kinda hazy," he teased her with mock seriousness. "All I can think about right now is how beautiful you look."

His eyes roamed over her appreciatively, taking in the white sleeveless calf-length dress with a satin underslip covered in a gauzy lace. Here and there different designs were captured in the outer layer. The straps were lace of a different material. They'd been crocheted from a blend of silk and Egyptian cotton yarn that was surprisingly soft to the touch as he gently traced a finger along one of them. The lace widened into medallions that curved just over her shoulders. The dress was paired with simple satin ballet-style flats and her legs were left bare. The look was perfect for a summer garden wedding. It would have been perfect on her anywhere, he thought to himself.

"Then let me remind you," she suggested softly. "I love you more than I ever dreamed was possible - and you look very handsome yourself."

Ziva's hands ran admiringly down his chest as she spoke, the truth of her emotions shining in her eyes.

They'd decided that Jethro and the Best Man of the day, Ducky, would wear light-weight suits for the wedding. In fact, Tony had talked Gibbs into purchasing his suit, certain his boss hadn't bought a new suit in years. He was right, though Jethro felt a little ridiculous when an entire group tagged along with him to a men's shop to find said suit.

Tony had insisted on coming along to provide fashion advice, and, truth be told, he had the most experience to offer in this area. McGee was no slouch in that department, either, though his understated personality kept that under the radar most of the time. Ziva hadn't wanted him to feel left out, so she'd made sure he came along. She was there to approve the final choice, of course, even if Gibbs pretended to grouse that it was hardly fair that she got to see what he was wearing, while he didn't get to see her dress until the wedding. She just gave him a twinkling smirk.

Ducky had several suits at home, but needed to make sure he owned one that would coordinate with Jethro's. If need be, he was happy to purchase or rent a new one. They settled on a deep charcoal gray suit with a silver tie for Jethro that had thin diagonal accent stripes in black and light blue. Ducky found a coordinating bow tie that would go nicely with a charcoal gray suit already hanging in his closet at home.

"Love you back," Gibbs husked, bringing her focus back to his face. His eyes were still drinking in the sight of her. His voice deepened and his hands began to wander. "Will you leave this on until we get to where we're going? Wanna be the one who helps you out of it."

She made a noise of approval that was trapped somewhere between a gasp and a whimper that went straight to his groin. Her thighs clenched together beneath her dress in an unconscious attempt to hold back the wetness that was beginning to pool at her center.

"I would like that, too," she whispered, running her hands over his suit jacket. "Will you leave this on so I can take it off you?"

"If you want," he indulged her.

"I want," she practically growled and captured his lips again.

"You know," she drawled when she'd let him up for air, "you still have not told me where we are actually going for our honeymoon." She lifted a brow at him archly.

"I know," he answered smugly without volunteering additional information.

She tried giving him her usually effective version of his silent, expectant stare, but he wasn't budging on this.

She practically _humphed_ which made him grin.

"Will you at least tell me if I should be prepared to board a plane while still wearing my wedding dress?"

He pretended to mull that over before relenting enough to admit, "No plane. Driving."

She relaxed against him even more. "Oh, good. That means I won't have to share you with anyone on the way." They grinned and kissed again before she laid her head against his shoulder, tucking her nose into his throat.

"Speaking of sharing you, I suppose we should get back to our guests," she offered somewhat reluctantly.

"By mid-afternoon, we're outta here. Deal?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her neck just to hear her make that noise he loved again.

"Deal," she breathed, tilting her head to give him better access.

After one last lingering kiss, they left the room and found the others gathered in wait for them at the round tables that had now been set up in the garden. The white chairs that had been in rows during the ceremony for their small crowd of guests were now placed around tables covered in periwinkle blue tablecloths and set with white china and crystal. Rivka had marshaled everyone into helping and had transformed the setting from a wedding to a reception in no time.

Ziva and her mother had planned the menu, with Ziva cajoling Jethro into giving some input and approval. Rivka had done a combination of cooking and catering to create the meal for the luncheon which had been set up buffet style. Everyone agreed the food was delicious and Rivka beamed with pleasure.

The couple had ordered the three-tiered wedding cake. It was a work of art that tasted as yummy as it was gorgeous.

After about three hours of eating, enjoying time with their friends and family, and even a little dancing on the wooden floor that had been set up in one corner of the yard, Ziva and Jethro made the rounds to say goodbye to everyone.

"See you in a week," Ziva promised her mother as they hugged each other tightly. "Thank you for everything, including helping out at the shop while we are gone."

"It is my pleasure, Zivaleh," Rivka murmured. She pulled back far enough to look at her older daughter with love and pride and satisfaction mixed in her eyes. "Do not worry about anything except having a wonderful time – wherever you will be."

The two women grinned at each other. Despite the fact that Rivka had proven she could keep a secret, Gibbs had kept the honeymoon plans completely to himself, not even succumbing to the efforts of his future mother-in-law that ranged from gentle wheedling to outright bribery.

They climbed into his truck and drove off in the midst of waves and shouts from their family and friends. They had packed this week and Jethro had placed their bags in his truck before driving over for the wedding. A few days before, he had given Ziva one chance to grill him on whether she needed various articles of clothing for wherever they were going. His answers varied from "yes" to "no" to "maybe." That last answer had always resulted in a look from Ziva that plainly communicated, "That is _not_ helpful."

Just when her exasperation over wanting to have the "right" things with her might have gotten the best of her, Jethro had picked her up and tossed her onto their bed in the midst of all the clothing and proceeded to tickle her senseless. Their mutual laughter had ended in a love-making session that was as fun as it was erotic. After that, she'd forgotten to be annoyed.

Besides, if she were honest, she was hoping to spend as much time as possible with her new husband indulging in the kind of activities that wouldn't involve clothing at all.

As they drove off to begin their honeymoon, she looked up at him from where she sat right next to him on the bench seat of the truck, her left hand in his right, resting on his thigh.

"So, are you finally going to tell me where we are going?" she asked, her eyes shining brightly with all the happiness she was feeling today.

"Nope," he replied laconically, grinning unrepentantly.

She gave him a mock glare, but she was far too happy – and intrigued – to really be aggravated. Besides, when he'd planned that weekend away for them all on his own, he couldn't have done a better job.

Ziva snorted lightly, then helped him loosen the top button of his shirt and his tie. She laid her head against his shoulder, a happy sigh escaping her as she settled in for the drive.

As they crossed the border into Virginia, she looked up at him suspiciously, but he still didn't say a word about their destination. In a couple of hours, they were on the winding road that led to the cabin they'd stayed in before and she could barely contain her excitement. She wrapped both arms around his right one and squeezed tightly.

It was summer now, so everything was lush and green rather than awash in fall colors as it had been several months before on their first visit. This was a different version of beautiful.

As he pulled to a stop in front of the very cabin in which they'd stayed previously, he looked down at her with his blue eyes twinkling.

"This okay with you?" he teased, unable to miss the absolute joy practically beaming from her face.

"It is perfect," she whispered, pulling his mouth down to hers for a heartfelt kiss.

He opened his door and slid out, reaching back to take her hand to assist her to the ground. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to her. Like before, she started excitedly for the door, but this time he kept her beside him with a tug on the hand he was still holding. He closed his truck door with a light shove from his other hand.

"Uh-uh – not this time," he told her, scooping her up in his arms bridal style.

Her brief surprise turned to a laugh of delight as she looped her arms around his neck.

He tilted his head toward their luggage in the truck.

"Anything in there you can't live without for a while?" he asked, his eyes on hers.

She shook her head.

"I have everything I need right here," she answered softly, looking back at him adoringly.

That comment earned her a kiss that curled her toes before he carried her to the door of the cabin. Ziva leaned over far enough to fit the key into the lock and open the door. Gibbs stepped across the threshold with her in his arms, then turned so she could push the door shut.

This time, Jethro had made arrangements with the staff who normally did the cleaning between visitors to stock the cupboards and refrigerator with most of what they might need for a week. A glance at the kitchen counter showed fresh fruit and bread, so he figured the rest was there, as well.

Ziva looked around the open floor plan of the great room on this first floor contentedly, resting her head on her husband's shoulder. _Her husband._ Just the mere thought of those words sent tingles all the way through her.

She looked up at him to find his eyes nowhere but on her.

"Thank you for bringing us back here," she husked. "I love it."

Cupping his cheek gently, she pressed her lips to his warm and soft and clinging.

"Good to hear," he told her quietly when they pulled apart a little. "Hope that means you'll love this, too."

He stood her on her feet as she looked up at him quizzically. Keeping one hand on her waist, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket with the other. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her.

Her brow lightly furrowed in confusion as she opened up the document. Both his hands were now resting on her hips.

At the top of the page read _WARRANTY DEED (Individual to Husband and Wife)_. Below that was a lot of legal language, an address in Luray, Virgina where they were standing at this very moment and "Grantees" listed as Ziva David Gibbs and Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

To say she was stunned was a serious understatement. If her lungs hadn't kept working on their own, she'd have forgotten to breathe. She raised her eyes to his, clearly unable to believe what she thought she was seeing.

"Jethro?" she asked hesitantly in a voice almost too faint to be heard.

"Like your wedding present?" he offered, his characteristic grin tugging at one side of his mouth, just a hint of vulnerability and all the love he felt for her on display in those blue eyes that she knew would have the power to make her weak in the knees until the day she died.

She swayed against him and he steadied her, as he had from the moment they'd met and always would.

"This place is ours?" she asked incredulously, her heart pounding. He nodded. She looked back down at the paper clutched in her hands. "But how … ?"

He shrugged lightly.

"Called the owner after we were here last time. Thanked him for letting us stay and told him if he was ever interested in selling, I'd be interested in buying. Out of the blue, he called me a couple of months ago. We talked for a while. He asked a lot about you," he smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear, "about us. By the end of the conversation, we had a deal."

Ziva was still so flabbergasted, she could hardly wrap her head around what he was saying. "But I thought you said he had children?"

"He does. None of 'em live close enough to use this place much." Gibbs paused and cupped her cheek. "Plus, got the impression he liked the idea of another couple – us in particular, actually - loving this place, bringing a family here … just like he and his wife had."

He went on to repeat the story the previous owner had told him, of a Navy man who'd met his future bride while overseas during World War II when she served as a translator for his crew. She'd been born in the mountains of Europe and missed them. He was based out of Norfolk for a long time, so they found this spot and he built this place for her. She spent a lot of her time here, especially when he was out on his six-month rotations at sea. In fact, all the pictures on the walls had been taken by her.

Ziva blinked back the tears of emotion that were pooling in her big brown eyes. She was so moved by the story of the couple who'd built this place … was amazed by the striking similarities between them and her own relationship with Jethro ... was overwhelmed by the love of the man who'd done this for her. For them.

"Think you'll like coming back here whenever we want?" he asked with his characteristic smile tugging at his mouth.

She nodded happily and jumped up to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, clutching the deed in one hand. He caught her close and swung her around.

"You are the most wonderful husband in the world," she whispered fiercely, her chin tucked against his shoulder.

He slowed to a stop and held her close.

"Hope you always feel that way," he said quietly.

"I will," she predicted, no room for doubt in her tone.

"Even when I make you mad at me?" he asked wryly, certain that he would at some point.

"Even then," she promised huskily.

She leaned back, then in to kiss him. It started off soft and sweet and tender. Then, putting heat behind it, she pulled him under the tide of desire that was never far off between them.

"I love your gift almost as much as I love you," she told him when she let him up for air, her voice thick with the emotions swirling inside her. "Thank you doesn't seem like enough."

"The look in your eyes is enough," he responded with a ghost of his half-smile.

He took her mouth again and this kiss was deep and heated from the start. Both their hearts were racing when they separated just enough to breathe. Gently, he allowed her feet to touch the floor again.

Gibbs rested his forehead against his wife's for a moment as he cradled her face in his hands.

"Maybe I could interest you in letting me unwrap my present?" he murmured softly, suggestively.

Her breath caught in her chest again in response to his tone as a beautiful smile curved her lips.

"You can interest me in that anytime," she purred in a sultry tone that skittered down his spine, running her hands slowly up and down his back under his jacket as she thought about her gift to him.

Ziva had actually given him his present about a month ago – or rather, had asked if he wanted it. Much to her delight, he really, really did.

It had been time for her next birth control shot. One night as they cuddled together in bed, she'd asked how he felt about them using something else for the next month while her body adjusted to being without that medication, then letting nature take its course after they were married. He'd been unable to speak at first, but the look on his face and the emotion in his kiss had given her all the answer she'd needed – and exactly the one she'd hoped for.

"But I did have plans, you know," she breathed as his mouth slid along her jaw on a sensual journey to her neck. She unconsciously tilted her head to give him better access to her throat and that sensitive area that never failed to send goose bumps zinging down her arms. "I have this very pretty, very sexy nightgown in my bag that I was going to wear for you tonight …"

"You're pretty enough and sexy enough for me no matter what you're wearing," Gibbs practically growled into her ear. Then he pulled back far enough to look at her with a roguish twinkle in his eyes. "But you can still feel free to put it on later if you want."

Her sultry chuckle had his body hardening even further. He kissed the delighted look right off her face, unable to help himself.

"Want you now," he breathed against her lips.

"Want you back," she returned in a low, sexy tone. "Always."

He picked her up with one arm around her upper back and the other behind her knees and carried her to the bed. He slowly stood her on her feet, keeping her close so her body slid down his.

Eyes roaming her lovely face, he husked, "I love you, Ziva."

"I am so very glad," she smiled, reaching up to pull his mouth down to hers for a series of kisses that took them deeper and deeper.

Very slowly, he lowered the zipper on her dress as she pulled off his loosened tie and stepped out of her shoes. She pushed at his jacket and his hands released her enough to let it fall to the floor. As she slowly, tantalizingly unbuttoned his shirt, he pushed her sleeveless dress off her shoulders. His heart pounded against his chest as those parts of her that were reserved only for him were revealed.

Under her dress had been hiding a lacy strapless bra that he couldn't help but touch almost reverently as his eyes continued to devour her. She lowered her arms so that the straps of her dress fell free of them, allowing him to push the dress off her hips to find a matching set of tiny, lacy panties. The noise he made – somewhere between a growl and a moan – gave her immense satisfaction.

She pushed his shirt off and quickly tugged his white t-shirt over his head so she could get her hands, her mouth on that incredible chest of his. She loved seeing her wedding rings on her finger as she laid her hands against his chest. She couldn't stop her sounds of pleasure and approval as she explored his body and he wouldn't have wanted her to; he loved the sounds she made.

"No matter how many times I am with you," she murmured, "I end up wanting you like it has been forever."

"Me, too," he admitted, unfastening her bra at the back and allowing it to fall on the floor so he could feast his eyes and his hands on her gentle curves.

Working together, they undid his belt and freed him from his pants and underwear which joined the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor.

Ziva turned enough to toss back the covers on the bed. Lifting her in his arms once more, he laid her gently on the bed and followed her down. A low hum of approval left her throat as his body settled heavily against hers.

His hands roamed everywhere, his desire inflamed by the certainty that she wanted, needed him to touch her. He kissed his way down her body and nuzzled his face against the silk of her panties, reveling in the smell, in the the feel of her wetness that had soaked through ... indulging himself in spreading the essence of her over his face. Craving the taste of her, he sucked the cloth into his mouth, driving a moan from him and a whimper from her. At last, he tugged off the lacy excuse for panties and the final barrier between them was gone.

They took their time exploring each other, whispering words that drove their passion higher and higher. When neither of them could hold off any longer, he settled between her thighs, running his arms under her shoulders to cradle the back of her head in his hands. She looked up at him in wonder, tracing his handsome features with her fingers. He smiled down at her with this look he'd perfected, one that managed to be both tender and heated at the same time, before bending his head to fasten his lips to a sweet spot on her neck that sent a zing straight to her center.

"Is it as exciting for you as it is for me knowing that you could get me pregnant?" she gasped in pleasure, pressing her hips against his.

"More," he asserted, pushing the tip of his shaft just inside her.

"That cannot be possible," she demurred breathlessly before capturing his lips in a kiss that rocked him to his very soul.

The last vestiges of his control snapped and with a single thrust he was buried deeply inside her, much to her intense pleasure – and his. They moved together with delicious, practiced ease, having learned each other well during their time together. The slow and steady rush that always thrilled them soon raged into a towering inferno that consumed them, yet, in the end, left them reborn. They reached the pinnacle of their desire and cried out hoarsely as they came together, the gush of his seed filling her womb completing their satisfaction.

They lay together, holding each other tightly, his head cradled to her chest, still physically joined as they slowly floated back to consciousness. The only sound Gibbs could hear was the beating of Ziva's heart as it gradually slowed. He'd never tire of it.

As they lay together completely connected on the first day of their marriage, Gibbs made a promise to himself. He wasn't going to worry so much about what may or may not happen that he missed out on a single moment of his time with Ziva. He was going to live his life as though they had all the time in the world, but none of it to waste.

"Forever," he murmured against her skin, then tilted his head up to look at her. "You and me."

Feeling his movement, she bent her neck to smile down into his eyes.

"Forever," she pledged as she caressed his face lovingly.

No matter what the future had in store for them, one thing was clear: they completed each other in ways that felt nothing short of magical and neither of them would have had it any other way.


	21. Welcome to the Future, Agent Gibbs

_A/N: Dedicated to all of you who've been hoping for a Zibblet ... or three. ^_^  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>About 4 ½ years later… <em>

Ziva Gibbs sat on the couch in front of the fireplace in their cabin, the colorful flames of the fire crackling merrily behind the protective screen. She looked down at her six-week-old daughter Kyla who was nursing hungrily at her breast. With a gentle smile, she smoothed her hand over the baby's soft head and pressed a kiss to the dark curls there. She couldn't help but chuckle when a little smile bowed Kyla's pink mouth without losing her grip on her dinner.

Ziva's gaze moved to the scene on the floor near her. Her husband and their three-year-old son, Jeremy – three _and-a-half_ the little boy was always quick to add – were entertaining Kyla's twin sister, Kaela, until it was her turn to eat. It was hard to tell who was having more fun playing peek-a-boo with the baby girl and tickling her tummy and feet, but Ziva was pretty sure it was Jethro.

Her thoughts drifted back over the years of their marriage. Sometimes she still had to pinch herself to make sure this wasn't all just the best kind of dream. No marriage is perfect, but hers feels pretty darn close and has from the very first day.

Jethro and Ziva had spent their honeymoon completely wrapped up in each other and ignoring the outside world. They hadn't gotten pregnant that week – though not for lack of trying. However, by October that year they'd been expecting their first child.

Ziva had wanted to know everything she could about her babies during both pregnancies. When they'd found out their first was a boy, they had excitedly started thinking about names almost immediately, of course. They were in mutual agreement in choosing a first name that was found in both Hebrew and American English, and Ziva told Jethro she really wanted a "J" name like his and Jackson's. Since she'd chosen the first letter, she'd suggested he make a list of some names he liked as a starting point for them. It actually hadn't taken long before they'd settled on their final choice.

Two years to the day from when Jethro had steadied her ladder on that sidewalk, Jeremy David Gibbs had made his way into the world. His parents could not have been more thrilled.

When he was about two-and-a-half, they decided to try having another baby. Jeremy may not have been conceived at the cabin, but Ziva was convinced the girls had been during a weekend she and Jethro had spent here alone while their son had stayed back home for an exciting weekend of his own at Grandma's house.

When they found out at their first, early ultrasound that their second child was actually two babies, they were stunned in the best possible way. When they learned at their twenty-week sonogram that Ziva was carrying two girls, Gibbs had been too moved to speak at first. Right there in front of the ultrasound technician, he'd pressed a kiss to her hand that he'd been holding, then laid his forehead to hers. As his other hand clasped hers on top of her burgeoning belly, he made no move to hide the single tear of joy that slid down his cheek even as his grin could have powered all of DC.

In the space of a few infant heartbeats, they were both laughing and crying at the same time. The technician couldn't help but be moved by their obvious happiness. Pressing a button to hold the last picture she'd taken of the babies on the screen, she'd slipped out of the room to give them a minute. Leaning toward each other, they'd connected in a soft, tender kiss and whispered yet again how very much they loved each other.

There were two placentas noted right from the first ultrasound, suggesting the girls were fraternal twins. That meant they'd started out from two different eggs. DNA testing after they were born had confirmed that, though they resembled each other very much. Ziva had rolled her eyes at Jethro's arrogant grin when Abby had pointed out it was like he'd gotten her pregnant twice the second time around.

Ziva's soft _Ahem_ was meant to remind them both that she had made her own special contribution, given that normally only one egg is released at a time. The humor and warmth in Jethro's eyes had tugged a smile from her and the soft kiss he'd pressed to her cheek had left her feeling very loved and appreciated.

Choosing names for the twins had not come as quickly as for Jeremy, but had included another very special moment for them.

* * *

><p><em>Flashback<em>

Gibbs came home late from work one night to find his very pregnant wife sitting in bed looking through a baby name book again. He'd already checked in on his son to find Jeremy fast asleep in the "big boy bed" he'd received for his third birthday, built by his dad.

They'd made a big production out of creating a new room for him in what had been the guest bedroom so that the room he'd been occupying right across from his parents could become the nursery. Gibbs had been absurdly pleased and Ziva not surprised in the least when Jeremy chose a nautical theme for his new room. The boy loved boats as much as his father.

After a kiss hello and a brief check-in on the day, Jethro took a quick shower. He pulled on a clean t-shirt and boxers, then climbed into bed beside Ziva and rolled on his side toward her.

"Any luck?" he asked, resting his head on one hand while rubbing her tummy with the other. He nodded toward the book as he waited for his daughters to acknowledge his presence.

Ziva, Jethro and Jeremy had all spent a great deal of time considering possible names, but nothing had been decided yet.

Ziva held her place with her thumb and laid the book facedown beside her as she looked at her husband and shrugged lightly. "There are several that I like; it is hard to narrow it down, even though we get to choose two of our favorites this time instead of just one."

They smiled happily at each other, still completely thrilled to be having twin girls.

"Remember how I told you I would like Jeremy's name to start with a J like yours and Jackson's and gave you the task of making a list of a few of your favorites?" she asked him, placing her right hand over his where he was still caressing her ever-increasing baby bump.

He nodded, some of his focus still on the hope that the girls would kick as they usually did when they first heard his voice after he got home.

"Maybe this time you should pick a letter," she suggested thoughtfully. "I do like the idea of starting their first names with the same letter."

He glanced up at her. "You wanna use Z?"

She shook her head lightly. "Not really. That is Jeremy's vote, but I do not see two girls' names that are found in both Hebrew and English that I love. Any other suggestions?"

She had one of her own, but wanted to see where he would go with this.

He scooted closer and laid his head on the top of her large belly, curling his arm closely under it. He didn't say anything at first. Ziva had lifted her right hand so he could press his head against her stomach and she let it come to rest on his head, combing her fingers through those silvering strands she found so incredibly attractive.

It took him a while, but she just rested with him in the silence, giving him space.

Bringing his right hand back to caress her middle where his daughters were growing bigger every day, he asked softly, "What do you think about K?"

He did not look up at her, but if he had, he'd have seen a beautifully tender smile curve her lips. That's exactly what she'd been hoping he'd say.

Without speaking, she lifted her left hand and showed him the pages she'd last been perusing. All the names began with K.

She felt his characteristic smile tug at his mouth against her, then he slowly tilted his head to look up at her.

"I think that would be a wonderful connection to their big sister," Ziva answered softly.

Just then, there was a definite kick from inside Ziva's belly, followed quickly by a second movement.

Ziva's laugh was tinged with wonder and delight. "It appears our daughters agree."

Gibbs grinned up at his wife, then he snuggled back in against her, pressing a kiss to her tummy.

Two months later, she gave birth to Kaela and Kyla, and they had two healthy, beautiful girls to go along with their bright, handsome little boy. Jeremy was a very helpful big brother, which came in handy with two babies.

* * *

><p>Ziva's thoughts came back to the present. Not for the first time, she contemplated just how lucky she felt to have this life with this man.<p>

As though sensing her eyes on him, Jethro looked up and snagged her gaze. Something of her thoughts must have registered on her face, as his own darkened with emotion.

"Love you," he said softly.

"Love you more," she returned with a smile in their usual, not-quite-teasing exchange.

He shook his head. "Not possible," he disagreed.

"It appears we still have a tie," she decided with an affectionate curve to her lips, as she always did. His tender smirk was Gibbs' only response.

His son's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Dad, can you watch Kaela by yourself for a minute?" the little boy asked seriously. "I gotta hit the head."

Jethro heroically bit back a grin as Ziva ducked her chin to hide her own against Kyla's head.

"I'll do my best," Gibbs promised gravely. "Besides, your mom's here if I need help."

"Yeah, but she's busy," Jeremy fretted, clearly a little worried about the situation. He looked at Ziva. "I'll hurry, Mom," he promised as he ran off holding the front of his pants as only little boys can do when they really have to go.

"Do not hurry so much that you forget to wash your hands," his mother called after him wisely.

"I won't," came the faint response as a door closed nearby.

Jethro and Ziva looked at each other and burst out chuckling. Just then, Kaela made a little whimper and Gibbs looked down to find her lower lip trembling and her deep blue eyes filling with tears. He quickly picked her up before she could begin to wail in earnest.

"Shhh," he soothed her gently. "If your brother hears you, he'll never trust me alone with you again."

In a fluid movement, Gibbs cradled the baby to him and stood, moving to sit beside his wife on the couch.

"Are you sure you can handle this responsibility, Daddy?" Ziva asked him, her eyes gleaming with mirth.

"I can handle anything," he told her, "long as I have you for backup."

Gibbs bent his head to drop a kiss to her mouth. When he would have kept it brief, she followed him, catching his lower lip gently between her teeth, then deepened the kiss by slipping her tongue into his mouth to find his. He welcomed her in, returning the favor.

"Perhaps I could interest you in 'having' me in a different way later tonight," Ziva murmured seductively against his lips. She pulled back just far enough to look at him provocatively. His body stirred, just thinking about it.

"Was hoping you'd feel that way," he admitted, heat in his eyes. In fact, he'd silently been hoping for that ever since they'd been given the go-ahead to resume that side of their relationship at her six-week post-delivery check-up at the obstetrician that had taken place that morning before they picked up Jeremy from Rivka and drove up to the cabin.

With a sultry smile, Ziva leaned back in and captured his lips once more.

Kaela decided she was definitely out of patience with waiting for her supper and made a loud noise of frustration. Her head began bobbing at Jethro's shoulder as she rooted around for something to latch her mouth onto.

With a smile and a shared look that said _Later_, they pulled apart. Kyla had drifted off to sleep, so Ziva gently dislodged the little girl from her breast and straightened her clothing. In a move at which they'd already become well-practiced, Jethro laid Kaela in the crook of Ziva's other arm, then picked up Kyla. With the confidence born of experience, he raised her to his shoulder and burped her, as Ziva settled Kaela at her other breast. Her parents grinned as she immediately latched on greedily with one fist pressed against the swell of her mother's breast as though defending it from anyone who might try to take it away from her.

"I'm back," Jeremy announced in a voice accompanied by running footsteps. Coming to stand in front of the couple on the couch, he sized up the situation. "Got room for me?" he asked hopefully.

"You bet," his father assured him with a smile. Scooting away from Ziva a little as she adjusted her nursing top for maximum coverage, he invited, "Come on up."

Jeremy scrambled up to sit contentedly between his parents. As he held his hands up by Ziva's nose to reassure her he had washed his hands ("See? Smell."), Jethro leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, reveling in the precious weight of his daughter against him and the sounds of the rest of his family next to him.

He swallowed a grin as Jeremy launched into another round of his favorite topic these days: trying to convince his mother that getting a dog would be a great idea. Ziva gently reminded him of her usual point that it would be best to wait for him to be a little older so he could be sure he could take proper care of it and kept to herself that she felt a little overwhelmed at the idea of merging a dog into the family while taking care of two infants and a three-year-old, especially with the hours that her husband's job sometimes demanded.

Gibbs kept his eyes closed, knowing he was better off staying out of this discussion. God save him from Ziva the day his son figured out the quickest route to getting a dog would be to corner his father alone and gaze up at him all hopeful-like with those expressive brown eyes so like his mother's.

He'd been born with deep blue eyes like most babies, but by the time he was six months old they'd changed to brown. Both girls had those same blue eyes for now, though Ziva thought they were a little lighter than Jeremy's had been. She was secretly hoping that was a good sign that one or both of them would end up with that arresting shade of blue she adored that gazed out at her from her husband's strikingly handsome face.

Ziva managed to distract Jeremy from the topic of a pet by suggesting that he choose some books and she would read aloud while Kaela nursed, as she often did. Jeremy quickly ran off to his room; one of his favorite things ever was having one of his parents read with him.

"So, tell me, Jethro," Ziva began conversationally as she adjusted her daughter against her breast, "have you decided how you will make it up to me?"

Gibbs went completely still, then turned his head just far enough to see her with one eye cracked open.

"Make what up?" he asked with mock innocence.

"When you and Jeremy come home with a dog," she answered matter-of-factly with a speaking glance.

Gibbs faced forward once again and closed his eye. "Workin' on it."

Ziva snorted and shook her head. He couldn't help but turn toward her again just to look at her. He could look at her for hours.

"But you'll still love me," he pointed out confidently, just a hint of smugness coming through.

Her heart melted and it showed in her eyes.

Leaning toward him, she husked, "_I_ am always going to love you."

Their mouths came together again, softly moving … savoring … connecting.

"Here, Mommy," came Jeremy's voice. "I even brought_ Goodnight, Moon_ 'cause Kaela and Kyla like that one."

That book had always been one of their son's favorites, but after the girls were born, he'd announced the book was for babies, not for big boys. One couldn't help but notice, though, just how often he was certain his sisters wanted it read to them.

His parents grinned against each other as they were nudged apart by one of their children for the second time that night - and they wouldn't have traded it for the world.

In no time, Jeremy was seated between his parents once again with a small stack of books. Ziva's melodic voice floated over them all as she dutifully began reading out loud from another well-read book about Theodore the Tugboat. Jethro leaned his head back against the couch one last time and closed his eyes as he listened.

He rubbed one hand over Kyla's back, both he and his daughter completely content as she slept against him, her forehead tucked into his neck.

Gibbs was not a man given to much introspection, but tonight he couldn't help but reflect on how the smallest of actions could completely change a life: the squeeze of a trigger … the beat of an infant's heart … the steadying of a ladder.

* * *

><p><em>AN:__ And so, this chapter brings us to the end of this particular tale about Ziva and Gibbs; I hope you enjoyed this peek into their future. I must say, I adored writing it. :) My sincere thanks to all of you who've joined me on this journey and loved this story right along with me, especially those of you who reviewed, favorited and alerted along the way._

_For those who are interested, here are the Hebrew meanings of the children's names from the Babynology site: Jeremy – "God will uplift, appointed by God;" Kaela – "beloved, sweetheart;" Kyla – "lovely, crowned."_

_Stay tuned for more Zibbs from me, both of the short (now stop snorting in disbelief, those of you who know me well enough to have learned that "short" is somewhere around 1,700 words in my book :p) and long varieties.  
><em>

_As usual, I own nothing remotely related to NCIS, Goodnight, Moon or Theodore the Tugboat ... though I wouldn't mind if I did.  
><em>


End file.
